KUBINA. 


NEW  YORK: 
JAMES  G.   GREGORY,  46,   WALKER  STREET. 

M.DCCC.LXIV. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864. 
BY  JAMES  O.  GEEQOET, 

i  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


&   A.   ALVOKD,  BTBRKOTTPKR  AND  PRIimtB 


I  DEDICATE  this  book  to  my  sister.  In  memory  of  a  love  be- 
yond the  parental,  a  friendliness  beyond  friendship,  brightening 
the  darkness  of  our  mutual  lives,  and  exalting  joy  into  the 
holier  lustre  of  happiness. 


2057026 


RUBINA. 


CHAPTER  I. 

IT  was  still  raining.  I  stood  by  the  window,  gazing  idly 
out  on  the  darkening  landscape.  This  was  the  extreme  of 
dreariness.  No  charm  shone  for  me  in  the  heavens,  where 
stretched  one  vast  robe  of  low  hanging  cloud ;  still  less 
charm  lay  in  the  battered,  dingy  piles,  called  by  courtesy 
dwellings,  opposite.  The  street  was  narrow.  The  wet,  slip- 
pery pavement  was  destitute  of  passengers.  A  tiny  pool  of 
water  had  collected  in  a  hollow  of  the  outside  window-sill, 
which,  with  the  usual  fertility  of  infant  imaginations,  I  was 
converting  into  a  boundless  sea,  picturing  thereon  tiny,  fan- 
ciful craft  of  marvellous  shapes,  and  bearing  extravagant 
names — how  or  whence  suggested  I  know  not. 

Borne  out  on  such  airy  pinions  of  fancy,  the  present — sharp, 
hateful,  with  its  humble  surroundings  and  its  sad  prospective 
— vanished  in  content.  Insensibly,  this  fancy  broadened, 
deepened.  Earth  contained  it  no  longer.  Now,  it  was  a 
fairy  bark,  careering  on  aerial  seas,  with  mortal  life  drop- 
ped far  in  the  distance  ;  then,  all  life  receded,  and  color  alone 
steeped  my  senses  in  gorgeous  bewilderment.  Swift  courser, 
ever  changing,  is  Fancy.  What  wondrous  regions  I  visited ; 
what  crude  shapes  flitted  through  iny  brain,  fretting  it  with 
vain  attempts  at  analysis  !  What  bright  impossibilities  dawn- 
ed on  me  realities. 


8  EUBINA. 

These,  though  not  unusual,  were  my  happiest  moments  ;  a 
rest  when  weary,  a  solace  after  punishment,  a  genial  playmate 
in  hours  of  loneliness. 

Mine  was  no  happy  childhood.  I  state  this  fact,  without 
regret  or  reproaches,  from  my  present  stand-point.  It  is 
easily  sighted.  Looking  back  to  that  childish  drama  of  wild, 
half-suppressed  wonderings  at  more  mature  actors ;  having 
vague  perceptions  of  truths  they  sought  to  smother  from  their 
own  consciousness  ;  revelling  in  interdicted  puzzles  over  the 
seeming  uselessness  of  Life,  arrd  the  dread  certainty  of  Doath, 
I  shrink  back  appalled  at  the  intensity  of  the  thoughts  which 
I  dared  not  express.  My  mother  repeatedly  assured  me,  in 
language  severe,  and  with  uplifted  finger,  that  ingratitude  for 
the  blessing  of  existence  was  sure  to  be  visited  with  Divine 
displeasure ;  that  "  the  hope  set  before  us  in  the  Gospel"  was 
all  one  ought  to  desire  ;  and  that  if  we  succeeded  in  glorifying 
Christ- — no  matter  whether  we  were  saved  or  lost  at  last — we 
should  be  supremely  happy  :  a  confusion  of  ideas,  a  conflict 
of  theory  and  practice,  I  did  not  pretend  to  understand,  but 
which  left  an  unpleasant  doubt  to  torture  me. 

Constitutions  differ.  It  is  essentially  right  that  all  should 
not  be  happy.  Pleasure  cultivates  some  human  soils,  but 
Pain  is  by  far  the  more  efficient  agent.  Heaven  teaches  us 
this  fact,  and  into  some  lives  pours  all  its  rains.  It  is  as 
though  the  dry,  baked  soil  needed  frequent  drenchings  to 
soften  it  to  fertilizing  influences — a  continual  inundation  of 
sorrows,  defeats,  losses,  and  great,  crushing  disappointments, 
to  plough  the  unproductive  stubble  and  prepare  the  furrows 
for  the  heavenly  seed.  The  earthly  pilgrimage  is  made,  with 
grief  for  a  haunting  fellow-passenger ;  and  the  couch  of  thorns 
exchanged  only  for  the  oblivious  one  of  the  grave.  A  pre- 
sentiment that  such  was  to  be  my  needed  discipline  hovered 


KUBINA.  9 

around  my  thoughts  that  night — cheating  the  pictures  held 
there  of  half  their  brightness.  Then  they  suddenly  doffed 
control,  and  swept  far  and  wide  over  my  backward  horizon. 

I  remembered  a  home  far  different  from  this,  where  every 
appointment  was  elegant.  I  recalled  the  lofty  rooms,  the 
vivid  lines  in  the  soft  carpets,  the  furniture — too  sacred  for 
my  baby  fingers  to  touch — and  the  handsome  woman  ruling 
over  it.  This  latter  picture  I  approach  in  awe.  Pride  speaks 
from  the  polished  brow.  Will  compresses  the  richly-tinted 
lips.  Energetic  perseverance  glows  in  the  large  gray  eyes: 
when  angry  they  expand  and  brighten,  as  though  the  vindic- 
tive flame,  lurking  and  warming  the  depths  below,  could  no 
longer  brook  delay  ;  and  they  send  forth  sparks  of  warning  to 
keep  away,  as  far  away  as  may  be.  In  vain,  as  I  scan  these 
features,  do  I  seek  for  a  sign ;  some  tender  ray — a  pitiful  ca- 
ress— to  show  me  unsealed  the  door  to  her  heart  The  cool 
reserve  of  her  manner  is  impenetrable.  Conventional  re- 
straints warp  diffidence  into  dignity  ofttimes.  So  I  am  will- 
ing to  believe  that  fond  emotions  existed  there,  if  destined  to 
remain  in  their  cave,  unvisited,  unseen.  I  used  at  times  to 
long — as  passionately  as  an  infantile  nature  can  long — to  be 
lifted  on  that  silken  lap,  to  be  pressed  to  the  velvet  bosom, 
and  thus  quiet  the  insatiable  craving  for  my  mother's  love  ; 
but  I  never  dared  claim  the  privilege.  When  she  was  in 
trouble  I  divined  it,  and  would  sometimes  totter  up  to  her,  in 
childish  fashion  essaying  consolation.  She  never  wept  in 
those  days.  WThen  sad,  a  mortal  paleness  overspread  her 
face,  and  deep  lines  seamed  the  brow.  I  knew  these  tokens 
well.  Often  I  stood  quietly  by  her  chair  saying  nothing, 
doing  nothing,  yet  quivering  over  with  sympathy ;  with  an 
intense  desire  to  allay  the  pang.  Sometimes  I  gently  stroked 
her  hands ;  or  leaned  my  face  against  her  shoulder.  Then 
1* 


10  RUBINA. 

she  would  look  sharply  around,  and  order  me  away  in  a  cold, 
implacable  tone ;  not  unfrequently  accompanying  the  man- 
date with  a  push,  the  sooner  to  enforce  obedience.  If  I  fell, 
she  looked  on  grimly,  deigning  no  help  to  replace  me  in  a 
walking  posture.  If  I  cried,  either  in  pain  or  anger,  one 
whispered  utterance,  "  Hush  !"  compelled  its  instant  cessation. 

For  this  reason,  of  her  unsympathetic  indifference,  I  loved 
my  father  better.  I  have  been  told  often  enough  since,  that 
he  was  not  as  good  as  I  supposed  him  ;  but  I  remember  many 
a  kindly  kiss  and  comforting  word  which,  an  hungered  as  I 
went  daily  for  a  little  affection,  sank  deep  in  my  heart,  sow- 
ing the  seeds  of  immortal  love  for  him,  which  beyond  this 
life,  if  fate  denies  it  here,  will  yield  him  a  plentiful  harvest. 
I  smiled  incredulously  when  my  mother  spoke  of  his  wicked- 
ness. For  me,  these  early  wayside  shrines,  crowned  with 
forget-me-nots  of  an  otherwise  too  dreary  infancy,  stood  out 
in  freshened  bloom,  and  memory  at  them  knelt  lovingly. 

Children  are  keen  observers.  The  incidents  of  early  years 
surpass  those  of  later  life  in  vividness.  Waking  suddenly, — 
who  ever  notes  the  transition  ? — from  semi-idiotic  infancy  to 
intelligent  childhood ;  from  immature  dreams  -floating  con- 
fusedly over  the  camera  ;  the  mental  plate,  freshly  polished  by 
the  great  artist  Nature,  slides  therein,  receiving  on  its  pure, 
yielding  surface  the  first  presenting  object.  Not  all  the 
washings  of  after  years  can  wholly  efface  the  sharp  outlines. 
I  caught  and  fixed  indelibly  the  spectacle  of  two  dissimilar 
natures,  indissolubly  bound  in  one  daily  life — to  each,  in  dif 
ferent  ways,  uncongenial.  Their  marriage  was  like  an  iron 
fetter,  and  it  chafed  severely.  It  might  have  been  a  flowcrv 
wreath  but  for  the  scorpion  lurking  in  pride,  to  annul  every 
suggestion  of  compliance  ;  to  infuse  poison  when  there  should 
have  been  healthful  peace.  Love  takes  his  flight  when  the 


EUBINA.  11 

stern  reign  of  pitiless  Duty  begins.  Their  differences  were 
not  often  wordy,  bat  they  seemed  to  surround  themselves 
when  together  with  innumerable  points  of  steely  obstinacy, 
which,  coming  in  contact,  invariably  clashed.  I  do  not  tLink 
such  conflicts  left  them  ashamed,  or  even  repentant ;  but  to 
me  it  seemed  as  though  the  air  was  freely  strewn  with  nettles, 
multiplying  their  noxious  products  with  fearful  rapidity. 
"  When  I  speak  I  mean  it,  Cornelius,"  my  mother  would  say, 
in  her  most  decisive  tone.  And  then  her  brow  would  be 
suddenly  seamed  with  wrinkles. 

It  always  brought  the  retort,  "  I  expect  to  be  obeyed, 
Caroline.  It  is  your  place  to  submit,"  with  irritation  and 
flashing  eye,  as  the  door  slammed  behind  his  hasty  exit. 

Leaving  this  dreary  was.te  of  dissension,  there  slowly  rises 
the  vision  of  a  dismembered  home  ;  of  a  forsaken  woman, 
who,  bowed  to  the  very  dust,  yet  disdains  all  sympathy,  reso- 
lutely casts  off  humility,  and,  cut  adrift  from  the  sheltering  har- 
bor of  home  and  a  husband's  protection,  the  roaring  cataracts  of 
public  gossip,  scandal,  and  sneers  to  stem;  unfeeling  questions 
to  evade ;  a  mighty  sorrow  to  be  concealed ;  a  helpless  child 
to  be  supported  ;  and  the  wrecks  of  a  handsome  fortune  to 
be  laboriously  gathered  in, — mere  stranded  spars  of  illusive 
hope,  looking  substantial  enough  in  the  distance,  but  melt- 
ing in  the  avaricious  clutch  of  attorneys'  bony  fingers,  like 
an  avalanche  under  summer  skies  and  showers, — yet  lifts  a 
bold  front  to  the  storm,  and  resolves  to  weather  it  cheerily. 

The  panorama  of  grief  shifts  rapidly.  There  seems  a  spe- 
cies of  freemasonry  behind  the  scenes  ;  a  banded  brotherhood, 
each  dragging  after  him  a  fellow-sorrow. 

My  mother  never  told  me  the  cause  of  my  father's  sudden 
departure.  Whether  debt  and  the  consequent  disgrace 
— debts  to  such  an  extent  that  no  prospect  opened  of  future 


12  EUBIKA. 

repayment — or  crime,  and  the  fear  of  punishment ;  or  weari- 
ness of  domestic  bickerings,  impelled  his  flight,  I  am  left  to 
iudge.  The  desertion  was  complete.  He  never  returned ; 
neither  did  he  send  back  any  message  of  farewell ;  or  leave 
a  clue,  whereby  he  might  be  traced.  Three  months  after,  my 
little  sister  was'  born  to  an  heritage  of  sorrowful  poverty. 

I  have  a  sickening  sense  of  frequent  movings ;  of  seeing 
the  grand  old  furniture  sold  piecemeal  to  supply'some  press- 
ing need.  All  this  changed  my  mother.  The  imperious 
dame,  whose  will  was  law  in  her  own  estimation,  vanished. 
In  her  stead  rose  a  pale,  saddened  woman,  toiling  the  live- 
long day  to  gain  a  decent  sustenance  ;  whose  health  gradually 
sank  under  the  weight  of  these  privations  ;  and  whose  un- 
availing penitence  caused  bitter,  wakeful  nights,  plentifully 
bedewed  with  remorseful  tears.  Her  restlessness  frequently 
awoke  me ;  I  dared  not  speak  or  move  in  answer  to  her 
murmurs  ;  but  her  sighs  and  constant  refrain,  "  Oh,  Cornelius, 
Cornelius!"  cut  me  to  the  heart.  This  was  only  at  night. 
With  the  morrow's  light,  her  calmness  dawned  anew.  Such 
a  nature  as  my  mother  possessed  could  quaff  unflinchingly 
the  gall  and  wormwood  in  her  cup — but  no  curious  eyes 
must  look  on  when  she  drained  it.  Had  she  known  of  my 
sympathy  she  would  have  scornfully  repelled  it. 

A  low  sound  broke  the  spell,  conjured  in  silence  and  gloom  ; 
routed  contemplation  of  the  ideal,  and  sternly  thrust  before 
me  the  actual.  This  then  was  the  scene  I  beheld  as  I  turned 
reluctantly  from  the  window.  A  low-ceiled  room  in  the 
attic  of  a  third-rate  boarding-house.  It  was  very  dingily 
furnished  with  scant  remnants  of  former  days',  belongings. 
A  smouldering  fire  in  the  small  box  stove.  A  cradle  with 
a  sweet  rosy  incumbent — this  last  item  the  darkness  did  not 
reveal,  but  I  knew  the  fact  well  before — and  a  low  cot 


RUBIN  A.  13 

whereon,  pale  and  wasted,  writhing  uneasily  on  the  bunchy, 
uncomfortable  straw,  lay  rny  mother.  It  was  her  voice  which 
roused  me.  I  sought  a  moment  for  matches,  lit  the  low 
night-lamp,  which  gave  out  but  a  flickering  gleam,  fed  with 
too  scanty  a  measure  of  oil.  I  added  a  stick  to  the  dying 
embers,  regardless  of  the  prudent  sigh  with  which  she  half 
raised  her  head  to  \yatch  me  ;  kneeling  on  the  uncarpeted 
floor,  I  fanned  it  into  flame  with  my  breath,  and  watched  it 
slowly  kindle.  "  Well,"  I  reflected,  "  things  might  be  worse. 
Thousands  have  no  fire.  I  pity  them.  This  is  my  weakness. 
I  like  to  see  the  flames  leaping  and  crackling  their  fierce 
tongues  over  their  victim  ;  dancing  such  grotesque  shadows 
on  the  gloomv  walls ;  and  giving  out  such  a  cheerful  roar  of 
delight :  but  alas !  WR  have  but  a  few  sticks  left,  and  after  the 
box  is  broken  and  burned,  I  see  no  prospect  of  more  fuel. 
You  are  too  extravagant,"  I  added  aloud  to  the  fire ;  "  make 
all  the  noise  you  like,  but  you  should  really  consume  more 
slowly." 

"  What  in  the  world  are  you  talking  about,  child  ?"  in- 
quired my  mother,  in  amazement. 

I  laughed  :  "  Giving  sensible  advice  to  the  stove,  little  old 
boxie  here."  I  got  up  and  gave  the  rusty  damper  an  affec- 
tionate kick. 

"  Don't !  you  make  my  head  ache,"  said  my  mother,  sharp- 
ly, "  you  are  so  heedless." 

"I  know  it,"  I  humbly  responded, feeling  deeply  repentant: 
I  had  not  meant  to  make  a  noise  to  add  to  her  suffering. 

"  Then  why  don't  you  stop  it  ?"  she  asked,  querulously. 
"  I  really  believe  sometimes  that  you  want  to  kill  me  ;  when 
you  haven't  any  mother,  perhaps  you'll  think  of  these 
things." 

At  this  dreadful  idea  I  came   near  sobbing.     "  Oh  !'*  I 


14  RUBINA. 

ejaculated,  convulsively ;  then  a  great  bunch  rose  in  my  throat, 
precluding  the  possibility  of  getting  out  any  more  words.  I 
wanted  to  tell  her  how  much  I  loved  her  ;  how  anxious  I  was 
to  make  her  better  ;  and  how  surely  I  should  die  if  she  did 
— for  I  really  thought  so  then — but  I  could' not  utter  a  syl- 
lable. My  mother  probably  took  my  silence  for  sullenness, 
for  she  said  no  more.  A  long  time  after,  I  approached  and 
bent  over  her  pillow.  "  Do  you  want  any  thing  ?  Can  I  do 
any  thing  for  you,  mother  ?" 

"  I  only  want  to  feel  better.  I  suppose  you  can't  give  me 
that,  child,"  she  moaned  wearily. 

"  Mother  !  I  wish  I  could." 

"  Well,"  she  said,  fretfully,  after  a  short  pause,  "  don't 
stand  here  looking  at  me  ;  don't  you  know  any  thing  ?" 

I  started  back — cut  to  the  heart :  she  presently  resumed  : 

"  I  should  think  your  aunt  would  come,  if  she's  coming 
at  all." 

"  So  should  I,  mother." 

"  Don't  repeat  my  words  so,  Ruby ;  it  isn't  the  way  to  do," 
she  said,  irritated  at  my  response.  "  I  suppose  you  can't 
make  yourself  useful  for  once,  and  tell  me  how  long  it  is 
since  I  wrote  that  letter  ?" 

"  Oh  !  yes  I  can,  mother  ;  it  was  a  week  ago  last  Monday  ; 
it  went  in  that  afternoon's  mail ;  so  the  postmaster  said." 

I  was  glad  to  think  I  could  render  her  this  unimportant 
service  :  I  looked  eagerly  at  her  for  some  signal  of  approba- 
tion. She  gave  none,  however  ;  on  the  contrary,  she  seemed 
vexed  that  she  had  forgotten  the  period  ;  she  never  relished 
being  reminded— even  in  an  unconscious  way — of  any  infir- 
mity ;  and  would  have  been  much  better  pleased  had  I  failed 
to  remember  the  time,  and  left  her  therefore  to  recall  it,  and 
to  exaggerate  its  length ;  but  this  I  did  not  then  know  ; 


KUBESTA.  15 

so  I  again  timidly  petitioned  to  be  allowed  to  do  some- 
thing. 

u  Dear  me  !  it  seems  to  me  if  you  really  wanted  to,  you'd 
find  some  way  quick  enough,"  was  her  cold  reply. 

"  I  do  want  to ;  but  you  won't  tell  me  what,"  I  said,  des- 
perately. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  I'm  an  awful  creature  ;  but  you  won't  have 
occasion  to  find  fault  much  longer."  I  was  silent  from  self- 
upbraiding.  "  You  see  how  your  poor  mother  is  failing," 
she  went  on,  in  a  softened  tone.  "  Memory  is  almost  gone ; 
Time  indeed  stands  still  with  me  j  the  hours  seem  days  ;  the 
days  seem  weeks  :  I  should  have  said  it  was  a  month  ago  that 
I  wrote." 

"  Then  you  would  have  said  wrong,  mother,"  I  remarked, 
with  delightful  simplicity. 

"  I  dare  say  you  think  so,"  she  rejoined. 

I  was  puzzled  at  this  remark.  "  I  make  no  doubt  but  that 
my  aunt  will  come  when  she  gets  the  letter,"  I  ventured 
again. 

"  Don't  yon,  indeed  ?" 

"No,"  was  my  answer. 

"  Your  reasons  for  such  remarkable  credulity  ?" 

"  Why,  isn't  she  your  own  sister,  mother  ?"  I  asked  in 
surprise.  She  rolled  her  head  to  and  fro  on  the  pillow, 
eying  me  suspiciously.  "  You've  got  a  deal  to  learn,  Ruby  ; 
you  don't  know  human  nature  as  well  as  I.  They're  all  alike, 
kith  or  kin  and  strangers ;  all  selfish ;  when  they  have  any 
axe  to  grind  they're  ready  enough  to  be  of  service." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  I  said,  doubtfully,  "  but  do  they  grind 
' axes  ?" 

My  mother  laughed  ironically,  and  resumed,  talking  appa- 
rently to  herself.  "  Now  there's  Hannah ;  I  wrote  to  her 


16  RUBINA. 

first,  and  she  never  has  answered  it — much  less  come  herself 
— I  don't  suppose  she  would  take  the  trouble  to  come  to  my 
funeral ;  nor  Rhoda  either  ;  they  are  precisely  alike.  Well, 
if  it  wasn't  for  the  children 

During  my  whole  life   my  mother  had  never  talked  to 

me  so  freely.     I  liked  the  change  and  sought  to  prolong  it ; 

though  nothing  more  seemed  needful  to  be  said  on  that  sub- 

ct.     "  Shall  we  go  home  with  her,  if  she  does  come  :  that 

is,  when  you  are  stronger  ?" 

"  Pshaw  !"  she  ejaculated,  impatiently.  "  There's  little 
danger  of  her  asking  us,  so  don't  go  to  putting  nonsense 
into  your  head.  When  I  get  stronger — if  I  ever  do — I 
shall  find  you  a  place  somewhere  :  so  think  of  that  instead." 

I  did  think  of  it.  In  my  ignorance  I  wondered  if  it  might 
not  mean  a  school.  But  that  idea,  common  sense  at  once 
rejected.  "  The  place,"  clearly,  must  be  some  servant's  work. 
Instead  of  feeling  thankful  for  such  provision,  I  could  have 
wept  at  the  bare  suggestion.  Some  contrite  thought  moved 
my  mother  :  she  looked  down  .on  me  sadly,  and  her  voice 
lost  its  fretfulness.  "  Poor  little  girl !  you  haven't  had  a 
pleasant  time  lately,  have  you  ?  I  don't  mean  to  be  cross : 
but  I  cannot  help  it.  1  believe  I  should  do  better  if  I  could 
live  my  life  over  again.  I  bcrjan  wrong,  you  see,  and  it's  so 
hard  to  change  now  :  but  I  cannot  go  back  if  I  would.  No  ! 
that  can  never  be,  child." 

She  raised  herself — beat  up  the  pillows  slowly — seemed 
to  be  considering  something, — and  her  face  wore  an  half- 
ashamed  expression ; — then  she  sank  back  and  said,  deter- 
minedly, "  1  wonder  if  I  am  so  near ;  get  the  Bible,  Ruby, 
and  read  that  beautiful  Psalm — you  know  it — about  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death." 

I  found  and  read  it.     "  Am  I  not  in  the  shadows  ?     Oh! 


RUBINA.  17 

most  merciful  One  !"  she  murmured,  turning  wearily  to  the 
wall,  "  will  thy  staff  support  me  ?  Oh  !  the  waters  are  so 
cold  and  dark,  and  my  faith,  is  but  meagre." 

"  Mother  !  what  are  you  saying  ?"  I  waited  a  moment  for 
her  answer :  then  she  was  so  still  that  I  concluded  she  slept. 
In  sheer  want  of  something  to  do  I  began  to  rock  the  cradle. 
Hours  elapsed  thus.  The  fire-light  faded  to  gray  ashes  :  for 
fear  of  rousing  my  mother  I  had  not  renewed  it.  The  lamp 
blinked  ghostly  at  last,  and  slowly  expired.  Then  the  clock 
in  the  hall  below  solemnly  swung  out  the  hour  of  midnight. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ALTHOUGH  only  ten  years  old,  I  watched  nightly  with  my 
mother  ;  catching  a  few  hours'  sleep  towards  morning,  as  I 
sat  in  my  low  chair,  or  on  the  floor  by  the  cradle.  It  seemed 
natural  and  right  that  it  should  be  thus.  Mrs.  Potter — our 
landlady — was  a  sharp,  practical,  though  not  unkindly  woman; 
who  looked  in  daily  to  inquire  mechanically  after  the  invalid. 
She  never  sacrificed  her  own  interests  in  this  solicitude. 
Knowing  that  we  were  unable  to  pay  for  a  doctor's  services, 
she  carefully  refrained  from  suggesting  the  need  of  one  ;  for 
that  would  have  appeared,  in  her  eyes,  a  tacit  admission  of 
her  own  responsibility  for  the  sums  expended.  Provided  we 
scraped  together  the  rent  for  our  poor  garret,  she  was  satis- 
fied, and  never  troubled  herself  to  inquire  whether,  in  this 
endeavor,  daily  food  was  sacrificed.  She  was  tolerably  civil- 
spoken,  too,  for  a  well-to-do  landlady  ;  and  if  she  addressed 
my  mother  as  "  poor  dear,"  and  carried  her  bottle  of  pity 


18  BUBINA. 

rather  too  offensively  uncorked  for  one  of  my  mother's  tem- 
perament to  like,  I  always  set  it  down  to  her  kindness  of 
heart  ;  my  mother,  to  her  ignorance. 

What  did  I  not  suffer  in  those  days — those  lonely  watch- 
ings  ?  Some  say,  children  soon  outgrow  sorrow.  I  know 
better.  In  those  solitary  vigils,  with  naught  to  break  the 
dreadful  silence  ;  with  those  still  spectral  lineaments,  starting 
white  from  the  surrounding  gloom  ;  with  a  vague  conscious- 
ness of  some  huge,  impending  evil,  crouching  by  my  side ; 
not  to  be  frightened  away,  nor  cowed  by  resolute  facings — 
I  experienced  pain — sharp  and  enduring  as  any  a  woman  can 
suffer.  They  yet  haunt  me,  with  their  nameless  grip  of  ter- 
ror— at  times  a  keen  realization  of  an  invisible  peopled  world 
enveloping  me,  and  a  shuddering  dread  lest  the  sable  folds 
part,  and  my  straining — yet  unwilling — eyes  catch  a  glimpse 
of  its  shadowy  inmates. 

This  evening,  in  the  midst  of  the  driving  rain,  was  borne 
to  my  ears  the  faint  rumble  of  wheels  over  the  stony  pave- 
ment. They  drew  nearer ;  they  stopped.  A  moment  after, 
the  door-bell  violently  rang.  The  noise  woke  Annah,  who 
began  to  cry.  My  mother  also  roused  to  a  listening  attitude : 
"  Who  can  be  coming  so  late  ?"  she  muttered.  "  Ruby,  can't 
you  still  that  child's  noise  ?"  she  said,  peevishly.  "  It's  worse 
than  bedlam.  Hush !"  she  added,  as  I  lifted  her  from  the 
cradle  and  commenced  a  pilgrimage  around  the  room  to 
soothe  her.  Hearing  footsteps  in  the  hall  below,  I  softly  opened 
the  door,  stepped  out  on  the  narrow  landing,  and  peered 
down  the  carpetless  stairway.  As  I  peeped  through  the 
rickety  railings,  I  beheld  a  tall  woman — very  masculine  in 
her  proportions— toiling  slowly  up.  She  paused  midway — 
at  every  step  she  had  exclaimed,  somewhat  in  this  fashion  : 
"  Goodness  gracious  me  !"  "  Lord  a  massy  !"  "  For  all  this 


RUBINA.  19 

world  !"  "I  never  see  the  beat  on't !" — "  I  believe  this  ore's 
a  bee-line  right  straight  to  the  garret,"  she  said  meditatively. 
"  It  needs  an  injine  to  run  up  and  down  these  stairs  :  I  should 
think  it'd  wear  a  body  all  out,  a  doin'  their  work  up  here, 
'specially  as  there's  no  man  to  help  along  with  the  chores : 
Joel  said  I'd  git  tuckered  out,"  she  muttered,  "  a  cornin'  on 
sech  an  unsartin  errant  too  ;  but  sakes  alive  ;  ef  I  stand  this, 
I'm  good  for  the  next  pull,  I  guess ;"  and  she  recommenced 
her  journey.  I  felt  too  crushed  in  spirit  to  laugh ;  besides,  I 
could  only  think  she  had  lost  her  way — and  I  debated  within 
myself  the  propriety  of  setting  her  right.  She  gained  the 
topmost  step.  "  Let  me  see,"  she  muttered  musingly  :  she 
nodded  her  head  slowly.  I  drew  aside  into  the  shadow  and 
watched  her  curiously.  "  I  calculate  I've  come  up  four  pair 
o'  stairs  ;  I  must  have  missed  my  rockonin',  for  Car'line  never 
could  a  bin  brought  to  this  pinch,  never !  sech  a  proud  sper- 
ited  creetur'  as  she  was  too."  No  wonder  her  ascent  was  so 
laborious.  She  had  dragged  up  with  her  an  enormous  wil- 
low basket,  with  leaves  in  its  top  tied  down  with  green  qual- 
ity ;  and  a  respectably  sized  antique  valise,  bulging  with 
articles.  These  she  set  decisively  down,  while  she  lifted  a 
corner  of  her  blue  bombazine  dress,  disclosing  a  gray  quilted 
petticoat ;  from  a  pocket  in  it,  she  drew  forth  a  stout  pair  of 
steel-bowed  spectacles :  very  deliberately  she  polished  the 
oval  glasses,  and  adjusted  them  on  her  crooked  nose — of 
course,  I  noted  the  details  afterwards  :  her  motions  I  could 
observe  distinctly  from  my  corner — at  last  she  spied  me  out 
in  it.  "  Here,  you  young  one,  walk  up  here,  like  a  chicken 
to  a  dough-dish,  and  tell  me  ef  Mrs.  Brooks  lives  here  !"  she 
sharply  ordered. 

I  advanced.     "  Are  you  my  Aunt  Rhoda,  from  Northfield!" 
was  the  answer  she  got. 


20  KUBINA. 

"  Sartain,  sure  ;  p'raps  you'll  have  the  charity  to  help  me 
up  with  my  kit,  and  show  me  to  your  marm — I  take  it 
you  b'long  to  Car'line," — with  a  look  of  inquiry.  I  hastened 
forward,  and  stooped  to  lift  the  basket.  "  Oh,"  she  inter- 
rupted, "  ypu've  got  a  young  'un,  have  you  ?  "Wall,  I  guess 
I  can  manage  these  'ere  then :  you  haint  told  me  what  your 
names  be." 

I  gave  the  desired  information,  and  threw  open  the  door 
to  our  room.  "  Them  pesky  cars  hendered  me  so ;  I  thought 
I  never  should  git  here,"  she  said,  briskly  groping  forward. 
"  Massy !  you're  all  in  pitch  darkness,"  she  added,  peering  in. 

"  Yes  !  I'll  have  a  light  in  a  minute,"  I  said.  "  You  take 
the  baby,  aunt,  and  I'll  run  down  for  a  candle ;  our  lamp  went 
.  out  ever  so  long  ago."  Down  I  went  to  Mrs.  Potter's  room, 
and — made  fearfully  bold  by  the  emergency — borrowed  a 
candle.  She  detained  and  questioned  me  about  our  visitor ; 
then  apparently  satisfied  in  her  own  mind  that  she  would  not 
be  a  loser  by  an  act  of  this  nature,  she  handed  me  another. 
I  lit  one,  and  hastened  back.  My  aunt  scanned  me  closely 
as  I  received  back  Annah  in  my  arms.  "  You  ain't  so  skeery 
'bout  the  dark,  as  our  gals  be ;  you  wouldn't  git  them  to  set 
one  minnit  without  a  light,  I  promise  you  :  wall,  I  s'pose  ye 
have  to  make  a  vartue  of  n'cessity,  don't  you  ?" 

"  A  what,  aunt  ?" 

"  Oh  !  you  haint  a  dreadful  sight  o'candles  to  burn,  I'll  be 
bound" — glancing  around  the  cheerless  room. 

"  No,  only  these." 

"  Humph  !  and  them  you  got  on  my  a'count.  Wall,  stick 
them  up  somewhere,  and  tell  me  how  old  this  brat  is." 

"  Fifteen  months,  aunt." 

"  Don't  aunt  me,  yit ;  how  d'ye  know  I  am  your  aunt  ?'' 
she  growled,  removing  her  things. 


RUBINA.  21 

"  You  told  me  so,"  said  I,  simply,  feeling  very  much  dis- 
posed to  heartily  hate  my 'new-found  relative. 

"  A  likely  idee.     Where's  your  clothes-press  ?" 

"  We  havn't  any,"  I  returned  shortly. 

"Wall,  any  cupboard  will  do;'  anywhere  to  dump  these 
duds." 

"  You'll  have  to  leave  them  on  the  chair,"  I  said,  dryly. 

Her  look  of  dismay  was  amusing  to  witness,  but  she 
arranged  it  silently  on  the  seat.  First,  the  valise ;  her  heavy 
blanket  shawl  went  over  it  like  a  pall ;  a  dove-colored 
shirred  silk  bonnet  went  on  that ;  a  pair  of  cinnamon-colored 
cotton  gloves  followed ;  then  when  a  pair  of  serviceable  yarn 
stockings  were  removed — I  assisting  in  this  process,  taking 
firm  hold  of  the  heel  and  toe  while,  in  her  expressive  words, . 
she  "  yanked  it  off" — and  her  thick,  leathern  brogans  care- 
fully retied  in  "  a  double-bow  knot,"  she  stepped  forth  a 
very  respectable  looking  farmer's  wife.  I  had  never  set  eyes 
on  one  before,  but  I  knew  her  directly.  She  carried  the 
very  smell  of  the  dairy  about  her ;  the  milky,  cheesy  smell 
that  the  long  subsequent  ride  could  not  efface.  She  now 
moved  with  brisk  tread  to  the  bed  ;  I  out  by  the  door  lis- 
tened curiously  for  their  greeting.  It  was  characteristic 
enough. 

"  Wall,  Car'line,  how  are  you  ?  pickin  up  any  yet  ?"  in- 
quired my  aunt. 

"  I  don't  know,  I  didn't  much  expect  you'd  take  the 
trouble  to  come,"  answered  my  mother  feebly,  as  their  two 
hands  clasped,  one  browned  with  exposure,  and  hardened 
like  flint  with  years  of  toil ;  the  other,  a  fairy -like  member, 
transparent  as  glass  ;  wasted  with  sickness  ;  colorless  as  the 
hue  of  death ;  the  veins  starting  out  like  huge  blue  cords 
from  its  wasted  fulness. 


22  RUBISTA. 

"  You  didn't,  hey  !  Wall,  you  know  I  allers  was  a  fool, 
Car'line,  so  when  I  got  the  word,  I  says  to  Joel,  '  I  s'pose 
she's  rather  spleeny  'bout  it,  but  mabbe  I'd  better  go  down 
and  see  her,'  and  law  !  Joel  he  put  right  in  too,  and  I  didn't 
git  no  rest  till  I  started." 

"  I  wrote  long-  ago  to  Hannah  and  she  never  answered  it," 
said  my  mother — humbly,  for  her. 

Her  sister  smiled,  and  coughed.  "  She  and  I  are  two  per- 
sons, I  s'pose  you  know  ;  ef  you  don't,  you  oughter.  She  allers 
was  a  selfish  crittur,  never  cared  a  straw  for  nobody,  nor 
nothin',  'cept  her  own  old  lazy  sides.  I  ain't  no  ways  sur- 
prised to  hear  any  thing  of  her  in  that  line,"  she  finished 
stoutly. 

"  Oh,  dear  !"  sighed  my  mother. 

"  Be  you  put  to  it  for  breath  much  ?"  inquired  her  sister. 

"  Oh,  no." 

A  long  pause  succeeded.  I  hushed  Annah  to  sleep,  walking 
up  and  down  the  narrow  room.  My  aunt  suddenly  turned  on 
me :  "  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  set  up  all  night,  hey  ?" 

"  No,"  I  faltered,  feeling  guiltily  conscious  of  telling  a  lie. 

"  Wall,  it's  pretty  nigh  it,  at  any  rate,"  she  retorted. 

"  She  is  all  the  nurse  I  have,"  answered  my  mother  for  me. 

"  Humph !"  she  snorted  disdainfully ;  "  a  pretty  nuss  she 
is.  I'll  be  bound  she  don't  know  tea  from  tansy." 

My  mother  laughed.  "  You're  odd  as  ever,  Rhoda." 

"  It's  no  laughing  matter,  let  me  tell  you,  Car'line :  you'd 
a  picked  up  long  ago  cf  you'd  been  seen  to  a  lectle.  Here, 
child,  you  didn't  tell  me  ef  you  knew  how  to  make  penny- 
r'yal  tea,  or  saffern  either.  I  mostly  prefer  saffern  myself." 

"  No,  ma'am,"  I  answered,  feeling  still  more  guilty  for  my 
ignorance  of  these  mighty  regenerators. 

"  Wall,  what's  a  miss  worth  without  that  knowledge,  I 


RUBINA.  .   23 

should  like  to  know  ?"  she  cried  triumphantly.  "  I  see  it's 
well  I  brought  my  tools  with  me.  It's  clear  I  should  a 
gone  a-beggin  to  find  any  here.  I've  got  oceans  in  that 
satchel  yender;  jest  fetch  it  here,  Ruby,  and  I'll  show  you 
in  a  twinklin'  more  'arbs  than  you  ever  dreamed  of.  There  ! 
that's  catnip — called  so  cause  catsallers  run  for  it  when  they're 
fitty — -It's  grand  for  stomach  sickness  ;  and  thafs  thorough- 
wort,  or  bone-set,  beats  all  the  doctor's  stuff  in  creation  for 
cleansing  out  the  system,  specially  if  one's  humory.  I'm 
dredful  choice  of  it;  't  don't  grow  very  abundant  in  our  parts, 
and  ther's  lots  of  it  used.  I  allers  git  Polly  Kitchum,  who 
lives  in  the  Xotch,  to  gather  it  for  me ;  she's  a  master  hand 
at  it.  Why,  I  wouldn't  be  without  it  for  no  consideration. 
I  keep  a  bowl  on't  standing,  the  whole  during  time,  on 
the  butt'ry  shelf,  and  jest  take  a  swaller  ev'ry  time  I 
go  by.  This  is  spearmint,  Ruby,  and  this  is  sage,  good 
for  one  of  them  are  pesky  headaches  such  as  the  Lee 
fam'ly  allers  was  troubled  with,  and  allers  will  be  I 
s'pose,  for  they're  constitutional."  (I  wondered  if  she 
meant  the  "  Lee  family"  or  the  "  pesky  headaches.") 

"  What's  in  this  bundle,  aunt  ?  it  smells  dreadfully." 

"  Oh,  that's  jest  what  I've  bin  huntin'  for:  itsyarrer!— 
grows  everywhere  ;  but  it's  proper  good  for  'most  every  thing. 
Sure  cure,  I  tell  'em,  when  ev'rything  else  gives  out.  I  guess," 
she  added  musingly,  u  I'd  better  steep  up  a  little,  and  give 
her  a  cnp,  and  see  ef  'twon't  start  her  up  a  trifle.  What  doc- 
tor do  you  have,  Ruby  ?" 

"  Not  any,  aunt :  mother  says  she  has  no  faith  in  them, 
and  she  thinks  it  a  needless  expense." 

"Jest  so  /  think,"  she  returned,  with  satisfaction.  "I 
don't  b'lieve  nothin'  in  none  on  'em :  now  this  ere'll  fetch  her 
along  quicker'n  a  cart-load  of  their  messes." 


24  RUBINA. 

She  untied  the  small  roll  of  pungent  weed.  "  Verily," 
thought  I,  "if  it  tastes  as  bad  as  it  smells,  nothing  will  induce 
mother  to  touch  it.  She  is  so  particular." 

My  aunt  resumed,  with  vivacity :  "  I  raly  wish  I'd  a  come 
afore :  I'd  no  idee  she's  so  run  down,  nothin'  but  skin  and 
bones,  is  she  ?  Wall,  what  can't  be  cured  must  be  endured, 
mus'n't  it?  I  s'pect  the  letter  got  kinder  overlooked  down 
't  the  office ;  then  agin  I  didn't  think  there's  any  hurry ;  but 
Joel  says,  '  Now,  Rhody,  don't  put  it  off.  Go  down  your- 
self and  see  how  the  land  lays.'  She  glanced  at  the  bed 
regretfully  ;  "  seems  to  me  she's  dreadful  drowsy ;  does  .she 
have  sech  spells  often  ?" 

"She  sleeps  most  of  the  time,"  I  answered. 

"  Wall,  we  must  fetch  her  out  o'  that,  short  order ;  now 
you  start  up  the  fire,  and  git  me  a  basin,  and " 

"  Oh,"  said  my  mother,  rousing  suddenly,  "  I  don't  want 
any  tea,  Rhoda.  Put  Ruby  to  bed.  I  want  to  talk  with  you." 

"Couldn't  you  force  a  leetle  down  now,  ef  I  should  make 
it  and  sweeten  it  ?"  persisted  Aunt  Rhoda. 

"  No,  indeed  !  I  feel  better  already :  your  coming  has 
done  me  good." 

I  approached  the  bed  to  say  good-night.  She  turned  her 
gaze  on  my  face,  where  it  rested  long  and  earnestly.  Invol- 
untarily I  stooped.  "  Bend  lower,"  she  whispered.  I  did 
so.  She  raised  her  lips  feebly  to  mine ;  she  stretched  forth 
her  hand  to  pat  my  cheek  fondly.  Unusual  the  caress,  un- 
usual the  words  crowning  it, — "  My  dear  little  daughter, 
good-night."  Then  she  seemed  half  ashamed  of  the  brief 
fond  sentence,  for  when  I  would  have  lingered  longer,  she 
moved  uneasily  and  said  iinpatiently,  "  There,  there,  good- 
night." 

A  small  "  lumber-room"  opened  out  of  the  one  my  mother 


RUBINA.  25 

.occupied,  in  which  Mrs.  Potter  kindly  allowed  my  poor  bed 
to  stand.  Its  legitimate  tenants — the  rats — were  a  terror  to 
me,  inasmuch  as  their  constant  noises  sometimes  suggested 
the  possibility  of  their  taking  position  in  my  domain.  For 
this  reason  it  was  rarely  occupied.  Now  I  went  to  it,  forget- 
ful of  my  fears,  in  a  maze  of  wonder  at  my  mother's  new 
outbreak  of  tenderness.  How  the  words  thrilled  me;  I 
repeated  them  to  myself  while  undressing ;  sweet  and  smooth 
as  honey  they  flowed,  and  they  looked  to  me  as  but  the 
harbingers  of  a  plentiful  future  harvest.  "Not  in  vain," 
thought  I,  "  has  been  my  quiet  devotion,  my  unceasing  care, 
during  these  weary  months.  It  has  unlocked  the  seal,  which 
pent  in  too  narrow  a  channel  the  clear,  gushing  waters.''  I 
was  meditating  in  this  dreamy  fashion  when  my  aunt  came 
in  and  placed  Annah  in  my  arms.  She  left  a  kind  word  also 
"Don't  fret,  child :  I'll  'tend  to  matters  and  things  now:  go 
right  straight  to  sleep." 

This  good  advice  I  suppose  I  followed  after  a  time.  I 
heard  the  sound  of  low  talking  through  the  thin,  plastei 
less  partition,  but  gradually  it  faded  into  indistinct  mur- 
murs ;  then  it  sank  into  whispers  as  my  ear  closed  to  all 
sound,  and,  with  my  arms  twined  closely  around  the  baby 
form,  the  fresh,  velvety  lips  pressed  to  my  cheek,  I  slum- 
bered. 

*  *  *  I  awoke — with  a  start — towards  dawn  from 
disturbing  dreams  of  a  driving,  pitiless  storm.  Hail,  sleet, 
and  clouds  of  snow  beating  my  defenceless  head,  as,  shorn  of 
bonnet  or  cloak,  with  feet  sorely  benumbed  by  the  intense 
cold,  alone  aud  unutterably  weary,  I  wandered  in  an  aimless 
search  over  an  unknown  wilderness.  Wide  barren  wastes 
surrounded  me.  The  wind  moaned  and  shrieked  among  the 
dry,  leafless  trees.  It  rose,  sobbing  with  the  suppressed 
2 


26  RUBINA. 

fury  of  the  coming  gale.  Storm-  spirits  hurled  by  me,  shriek 
ing.  Invisible  forces  lifted  me  in  their  arms,  and,  helpless 
and  frightened,  I  was  borne  upward.  Anon,  the  vast  void 
called  space,  claimed  me  for  its  sole  inhabitant.  Sound  was 
no  more.  The  power  of  speech  was  denied  me.  For  the 
vision  was  only  endless  night.  My  limbs — shrunken  with 
terror — essayed  motion  in  vain.  For  crimes  uncommitted — 
or  at  least  unknown — my  soul  was  doomed  to  eternal  soli- 
tude. Not  so.  Motion — suddenly  asserted — seized  me.  I 
was  falling  through  the  drear  vacuity ;  whirling,  as  I  plunged 
downward,  with  the  speed  of  the  revolutions  of  the  planets ; 
faster  and  faster  as  I  neared  the  earth,  which  loomed  in 
sight — measureless,  boundless.  Its  dark  surface  arrested  my 
flight ;  I  awaited  in  terror  the  inevitable  concussion. 

Was  I  awake,  or  dreaming?  I  was  in  my  own  little  cot; 
Annah  was  still  in  my  arms.  The  silence  of  night  wrapped 
the  room — its  silence,  but  not  its  gloom.  No  lamp  or  can- 
dle was  burning,  yet  a  tender  radiance  shone  mild  and  clear. 
By  my  bedside  sat  my  mother,  her  gaze  meeting  mine  smi- 
lingly. In  former  nights  I  had  often  waked  to  find  her 
restlessly  pacing  the  sleepless  hours  away  ;  so  this  vision 
neither  startled  nor  alarmed  me,  and  I  silently  surveyed  her. 
It  was  the  same,  yet  how  transformed  the  image  !  She  looked 
not  wan  and  wasted,  as  I  remembered  her  a  few  hours  since, 
but  well  and  happy.  Happiness,  full  to  overflowing,  could 
alone  have  generated  that  smile,  wreathing  her  lip, — tender, 
self-reproachful, — with  which  she  watched  me,  while  my 
tongue  trembled  for  utterance. 

"Mother,"  I  whispered  softly,  "how  came  you  here? 
Does  Aunt  Rhoda  know  ?" 

Still  mute  and  smiling,  the  vision  (if  such  it  was)  rose. 
How,  or  whence,  she  vanished,  I  know  not.  I  had  never 


KUBINA.  27 

once  taken  my  eyes  from  her.     The  door  had  not  opened ; 
but  she  was  gone. 

As  I  lay,  awed  a  little  and  wondering,  a  deep-toned  voice 
broke  the  solemn  stillness.  It  was  my  aunt's  voice  in  the 
outer  room,  reverently  uttering  these  words  of  holy  resigna- 
tion— "  The  Lord  gave,  and  the  Lord  taketh  away  ;  blessed 
be  the  name  of  the  Lord."  Then,  after  a  pause,  "  Car'line 
was  the  youngest  of  us  all,  and  she's  gone  the  fust.  It's  trou- 
ble's done  it." 

"  No,"  answered  another  voice ;  I  recognized  it  as  Mrs. 
Potter's.  "  It's  the  will  of  an  overruling  Providence.  That's 
clear  enough  to  my  mind.  Her  time  had  come  ;  and  we 
ought  to  be  submissive.  Perhaps  she's  been  took  from  the 
evil  to  come."  My  aunt  gave  a  heavy  groan.  Presently 
Mrs.  Potter  resumed :  "  Your  sister  was  a  proper  nice  woman, 
but  she's  better  off  now." 

"  Yes,"  assented  my  aunt.  Not  confident  of  having  yet 
struck  the  right  vein  of  consolation,  Mrs.  Potter  continued  : 
"  It's  no  use  repining  at  our  afflictions  ;  it  won't  bring  her 
back ;  besides  its  flying  right  square  in  the  face  of  Scrip- 
ture. Be  you  a  professor,  ma'am  I" 

"  I  hope  so,"  responded  my  aunt,  quickly,  "  I  wouldn't 
give  much  for  myself,  ef  I  wasn't.  My  earthly  course  is 
more'n  half  run,  and  'twould  be  a  burnin'  shame  and  dis- 
grace, not  to  have  my  lamp  trimmed  and  burning.  I  hope 
I  don't  b'long  to  the  foolish  virgins ;  and  there's  no  tellin' 
how  soon  the  bridegroom'll  call  for  me." 

"  Yis,  to  be  sure,  we've  all  got  to  come  to  it,"  regretfully  * 
sighed  the  landlady.     "  We  can't  realize  it,  thougi,   till  it 
strikes  home ;  you  know  that,  Mrs.  Martin,  as   well  as  I  do. 
There's  a  beautiful  hymn  somewhere — I  don't  know  but  it's 
in  the  Moravian  collection ;  and  I  don't  know  as 'tis — but  it's 


28  BUBINA. 

about,  '  We'll  lay  our  armor  down.'  I  always  feel  kinder  con- 
soled to  let  what  will,  happen,  when  I  hear  it  sung  in  church, 
but  the  trouble  is,  it  don't  last  long.  It  must  be  a  great  com- 
fort, Mrs.  Martin,  to  reflect  that  your  sister  was  a  member." 

"  Yes ;"  absently  responded  my  aunt ;  and  a  decent  pauso 
followed.  Then  the  landlady  said  briskly,  "  Well,  well,  Mrs. 
Martin,  'twon't  alter  nothing  to  wait  any  longer.  What  shall 
it  be  ?  Merino,  or  muslin  ?" 

"  I  ra'ly  don't  know,"  said  my  aunt,  thoughtfully. 

"  I  suppose  I  may  as  well  tell  you,"  said  Mrs.  Potter,  feel- 
ing her  way  to  a  bargain,  "  that  I've  got  plenty  of  book- 
muslin  in  the  house  ;  and  as  good  book-muslin,  too,  as  any 
one  could  wish  to  be  laid  out  in.  I  keep  it  a  purpose  for  such 
occasions.  Them  who  keep  a  boarding-house,  ma'am,  don't 
never  know  when  these  things  won't  happen.  This  is  a  dy- 
ing world,  you  know,"  she  snivelled  pathetically. 

"  Yes,  that's  true,"  interrupted  my  aunt.  She  was  too 
sharp  not  to  understand  the  woman  thoroughly. 

"  Well,  now,  Mrs.  Martin,"  sinking  her  voice  impressive- 
ly, "  I  feel  free  to  tell  yon,  that  I've  had  my  shroud  made,  and 
packed  away,  nigh  upon  ten  years.  When  I  go  a  journey 
I  always  take  it  along,  for  fear  of  accidents,  you  know.  My 
mother  did  so  before  me;  she  pinned  every  thing  up  togeth- 
er in  the  sheet,  and  when  her  time  did  come,  all  I  had  to  do 
was  to  go  and  put  my  hand  right  on  to  'em ;  'twas  all  ready  ; 
I  could  a  got  them  in  the  dark." 

"  You  don't  say  ?"  observed  my  aunt,  coolly. 

"  Yes ;  and  there  was  my  grand'ther  too  !  Now  what  do 
you  think  he  did  ?  the  strangest  thing  !  He  went  and  got 
his  grave-stones,  and  his  wife's  too  ;  had  them  marked — all 
but  the  date,  you  know — got  the  foot-stones,  and  had  the 
initials  put  on." 


EUBINA.  29 

"  Mercy !"  said  Aunt  Rhoda,  "  where  did  he  keep  'em  !" 

"  Oh  !  under  the  bed  for  a  long  spell ;  but  he  found  that 
they  was  getting  too  dusty  there,  so  he  carried  'em  off  to 
the  graveyard,  and  set  'em  up.  He  had  picked  out  the 
place  long  before,  where  he  wanted  to  lie,  and  he  said  he 
was  determined  to  suit  himself  about  the  ston'es  ;  he  didn't 
want  his  heirs  to  quarrel  over  his  bones.  Poor  man  ;" — she 
sighed — "  he  didn't  live  long  after  it.  Some  kinder  thought 
it  was  tempting  Providence ;  getting  ready  so,  to  die ;  but 
law,  /  never  did.  I  don't  think  the  Lord' 11  take  us  any 
sooner  for  being  prudent.  I  don't  believe  in  forerunners  of 
death,  either ;  do  you,  Mrs.  Martin  ?" 

"  No,"  said  ray  aunt,  solemnly.  "  The  Bible  says  :  '  For 
he  cometh  like  a  thief  in  the  night;'  I  believe  that" 

"Well,  now,"  responded  Mrs.  Potter,  "I'll  just  run  down 
and  get  that  muslin ;  you  can  see  if  'twill  do,  you  know,  and 
if  it  will,  why,  we  can  go  right  to  work  upon  it;  there's  no 
need  of  calling  any  one  else  in,  as  I  know  of." 

I  caught  the  sound  of  an  opening  door ;  then  of  feet  de- 
scending the  stairs.  Soon  reappearing,  there  ensued  a  gentle 
bustle.  I  am  ashamed  to  record  of  my  aunt,  that  she  ob- 
jected to  the  price  of  the  muslin  so  strenuously,  that  an  al- 
tercation seemed  pending ;  but  she  was  finally  overruled  by 
the  landlady's  decisive  arguments.  I  knew  instinctively  the 
meaning  of  these  preparations.  I  had  never  in  my  life 
looked  on  death,  but  now,  through  every  nerve  of  ray  soul 
quivered  the  un resisted  conviction  :  You  are  orphaned,  and 
desolate. 

Oh  !  Reader,  if  you  have  ever  lain  thus — in  a  darkened 
chamber — dark  indeed  to  ybur  eyes  and  heart — with  a  loved 
form  lying  near  to  your  warm  clasp,  cold  and  speechless ; 
with  the  hum  of  voices  over  the  work  of  robing  that  form 


30  BUBINA. 

for  the  tomb,  sounding  fearfully  distinct,  and  almost  palsying 
sorrow,  in  spasms  of  indignation  at  their  heartlessness ;  every 
rustle  of  the  snowy  robe  sending  over  you  chilly  terrors ; 
every  clip  of  the  scissors  cutting  your  heart-strings,  then  in- 
deed I  pity  you  :  still  warmer  glows  my  pity  if,  to  the  suffi- 
cient bitterness  of  the  present,  Retrospection  adds  a  sting. 
If  memory  pushes  up  from  her  charnel-house  many  oppor- 
tunities, by  you  slighted,  of  adding  one  comfort,  diminish- 
ing one  pang  ;  if  she  continually  tortures  your  ear,  by  sound- 
ing through  it  the  sad  refrain :  Repentance  now  is  of  no 
avail ;  you  can  do  these  sweet  offices  no  longer ;  naught  can 
benefit  the  dead. 

I  was  devoutly  thankful  when,  at  last,  the  voices  ceased  ; 
when  the  broadening  dawn  imperatively  told  me  to  rise,  and 
quit  my  room,  even  though  it  brought  me  face  to  face  with 
this  strange  visitant ;  even  though  it  added  the  torture  of 
the  funeral — another  strangeness — and  the  succeeding  long, 
sleepless  night. 


CHAPTER  III. 

SEVETRAL  days  elapsed,  filled  to  the  brim  with  loneliness, 
It  is  so  hard  to  grow  accustomed  to  miss  the  object  of  our 
daily  love  and  care ;  so  hard  to  stifle  longing  with  vain  re- 
flections. What  a  desert  Life  looks  to  us  henceforth !  In 
vain  we  pierce  the  blankness  for  some  oasis  of  precious 
hope,  to  guide  and  comfort  us.  The  scales  of  ignorant  self- 
ishness lie  too  thickly  on  our  eyes,  for  us  to  see  that  there 
t*  a  pathway ;  and  that  God  sends  other  travellers  beside 
ourselves,  over  the  same  sunless  journey. 


RUBINA.  31 

I  roused  myself  at  last  from  the  contemplation  of  my  own 
desolation,  to  soothe  Annah's  grief.  She  did  not  cry,  but 
she  fretted  constantly.  This  stimulated  my  womanly  digni- 
ty ;  it  throve  wonderfully.  It  seems  unnatural,  and  ludi- 
crous now,  to  recall  my  efforts  to  assume  maternal  functions ; 
then,  it  thrilled  me  with  an  earnestness,  effectually  preclu- 
ding mirth  from  its  beholders. 

Those  quiet  days  to  me  were  busy  ones  to  my  aunt. 
With  the  efficient  promptness  which  characterized  all  her 
movements,  she  packed,  and  repacked,  articles  destined  for 
moving;  the  few  pieces  of  furniture  were  sent  to  certain 
auction-rooms  in  the  vicinity,  and  thus  disposed  of;  the 
landlady's  bill  ostentatiously  called  for,  and  settled ;  and  a 
shabby  suit  of  mourning  hastily  improvised  for  me, — "  for 
the  neighbors'll  watch,  as  sharp's  a  brier  " — my  aunt  ob- 
served in  answer  to  Mrs.  Potter's  remark,  that  "  she  thought 
it  a  useless  expense."  The  contents  of  the  little  brown  hair 
trunk,  thickly  studded  on  its  cover  with  my  mother's  ini- 
tials in  brass  nails,  were  thoroughly  overhauled.  It  held  a 
number  of  my  father's  clothes,  which  my  aunt  unceremoni- 
ously bundled  together,  averring,  "  They'll  do  for  carpet-rags ; 
they  ain't  fit  for  nothing  else."  She  muttered  also,  sotto 
voce,  "I'd  like  to  strip  up  the  wearer  on  'em  too;  heartless, 
good-for-nothing  wretch.  I'd  never  a  b'lieved  it  of  Corny 
Brooks." 

Twilight  was  slowly 'deepening  into  a  bright  moonlit  eve 
as  we  n eared  Northfield.  The  heavy  stage  lumbered  up  to 
the  tavern.  Several  acquaintances  were  lounging  on  the 
outside  "  stoop,"  who  came  up  cordially  to  shake  her  offered 
hand.  She  seemed  glad  to  get  home  again  ;  glancing  at 
their  faces,  then  around  at  the  dusty  street  and  the  well- 
known  dwellings  lining  it,  with  unmistakable  satisfaction. 


32  EUBINA. 

The  worthy  farmers  seemed  fully  aware  of  the  nature  of  my 
aunt's  late  journey,  and  by  a  few  curious  glances  they  guessed 
the  result.  (It's  astonishing  what  a  shrewd  faculty  this 
"  guessing"  becomes  among  the  villagers.  With  its  inquisi- 
torial edge— keen  as  a  hatchet — it  hews  for  its  owners  a  way 
right  into  your  household  affairs ;  it  adjudges  your  social, 
religious,  political  standing ;  inventories  your  wardrobe — as 
well  as  any  mental,  moral,  or  personal  defects  you  possess, 
and  naturally  desire  to  keep  secret.  What  one  knows,  all 
soon  discover,  and  by  the  use — vigorously  plied — of  the  same 
legitimate  means.) 

One  of  these  neighbors,  whom  my  aunt  called  "  Uncle 
Jesse,"  offered  to  "  harness  up,"  and  take  us  "  down  t'the 
Hook."  ; 

Aunt  Rhoda  opposed,  at  first,  a  faint  show  of  polite 
resistance.  "  'Ta'nt  no  trouble  at  all,"  he  returned,  "  my 
horse  is  hitched  right  under  Deacon  Brown's  shed  yender." 

"  I  can  walk  well  enough  yit,"  began  Aunt  Rhoda,  tartly, 
when  Uncle  Jesse  decisively  interrupted  her  : 

"Now,  Mrs.  Martin,  I  'spose  'ta'nt  nothiu'  for  you  to  foot 
it  a  mile  or  two  arter  ridin'  all  day ;  but  this  leetle  chick 
can't  stan'  it  no  how.  Can  you,  sissy  ?  What's  your  name, 
leetle  one  ?''  He  finished  by  kindly  stroking  my  head. 

"  Ruby,  Sir,"  I  answered,  timidly. 

"  Speak  up,  child  ;  and  don't  be  'fraid  of  your  shadder," 
sharply  interposed  my  aunt. 

Uncle  Jesse  gave  her  a  queer  look ;  then  responded  to 
my  answer,  "  Ruby,  hey  ?  a  proper  pretty  one  'tis,  too ;  and 
you're  as  nice  a  leetle  gal  as  ever  trod  shoe-leather." 

"I  can  tell  you  one  thing,  Mr.  Warner;  you'd  better  not 
go  to  puttin'  notions  into  her  head,"  retorted  Aunt  Rhoda, 
nodding  at  him  most  mysteriously. 


RUBINA.  33 

"  Tut,  tut !  praise  don't  never  hurt  nobody  ;  I  wish  there 
was  more  of  it  in  the  world.  Now  you  wait  a  bit,  and  I'll 
jerk  up  the  old  mare.  I  hav'nt  used  her  much  latterly,  and 
she  feels  her  oats,  I  tell  you,"  and  off  Uncle  Jesse  trotted. 

We  stood  in  the  tavern  porch  during  this  brief  colloquy, 
and  there  we  waited  until  the  mare  appeared,  reined  in  with 
the  utmost  care  by  Uncle  Jesse,  whose  sonorous  "  whoa's," 
and  "  there  stiddy,  stiddy  now,"  woke  expressive  nods  and 
winks  from  the  other  fanners.  Indeed,  I  saw  no  signs  of 
friskiness;  on  the  contrary,  she  indulged  her  fat,  nut-brown, 
sides  in  a  very  moderate  trot,  and  meekly  dropped  her  head 
on  stopping. 

"  This  is  a  dredful  likely  child,  Mrs.  Martin,"  remarked 
another  neighbor,  lifting  Annah  "  to  heft  her,"  "  a  two-year 
old,  I  reckon?" 

"  No;  only  fifteen  months,"  corrected  my  aunt. 

"  You  don't  say ;  well,  I  never  ;"  and  the  whole  group 
nodded  emphatically  at  Annah — I  suppose  for  a  sign  of 
approbation. 

Uncle  Jesse  now  gathered  up  the  lines  in  his  great  brown 
hands,  and  turned  the  horse's  head. 

"  We'se  a  talkin  'bout  you  this  blessed  mornin',"  said  he, 
"  and  says  sister  Siny,  says  she,  '  I  guess  the  reason  why  Mrs. 
Martin  stays  so,  is  that's  she's  goin'  to  nuss  up  Car'line  and 
bring  her  hum  with  her  ;  she's  a  good  hand  at  it.'  '  Yis,' 
says  sister  Crete,  '  but  there's  no  tellin' :  if  she's  foreordained 
to  git  well  she  will ;  and  if  she's  foreordained  to  die,  why  she 
will,  and  all  Rhody  Martin's  nussin'  won't  alter  nothin' ' — and 
it  seems  it's  so."  He  paused,  with  a  soothing  cluck  to  the 
horse,  which  I  tried  in  vain  to  interpret. 

"  Where's  Miss  Charity  now  ?"  asked  my  aunt. 

"  Oh,  teachin',  as  usual :  she's  commenced  a  s'lect  school 
2* 


34:  KUBINA. 

now,  down  to  Scrabbletown ;  don't  see  her  only  once  a  fort- 
nit.  How  does  she  take  it  ?" — meaning  me — his  voice  sank 
to  a  confidential  whisper. 

"That's  mor'n  I  kin  make  out  jest  yit,"  she  answered.  "I 
'xpected  to  have  a  dredful  fuss  when  she  found  it  out'n  the 
mornin',  but  she  didn't  take  on  none,  nor  nothin',  and  I'm 
'fraid  she  didn't  feel  it  as  she  oughter." 

"  Ye  can't  allers  tell  when  folks  sense  it,"  he  returned. 
"  Some  shows  it  one  way,  some  anuther.  Did  Car'line  go 
hard  ?"  was  his  next  inquiry,  glancing  at  me  cautiously. 

"  No  ;  she  jest  dropped  off  as  easy  as  a  baby  goin'  to  sleep. 
I  thought  she  was  struck  with  death  jest  as  soon  as  I  set  eyes 
on  her ;  I  wa'n't  'xpecting  to  find  her  so  low.  She  talked  a 
consid'rable  spell  arter  I  got  there,  but  she  kep'  breathin' 
shorter  and  shorter,  and  'fore  I  rightly  knew  it  she  was  gone." 

"  Wall,  that's  somethin'  to  think  on,  ain't  it  ?"  said  Mr. 
Warner,  thoughtfully  patting  his  knee.  "  Why,  here  we  be, 
all  safe  and  sound,  and  there's  'Mandy  a  sparkin'  it  in  the 
front  door :  wall,  wall,  young  folks  will  be  young  folks,  you 
know,  Mrs.  Martin." 

Uncle  Jesse  brought  us  up  in  fine  style  before  a  low-roofed 
building,  cozy,  comfortable  looking,  and  rather  more  tasteful 
than  is  wont  for  a  farm-house.  A  piazza  stretched  along  its 
southern  side,  over  the  framework  of  which  clusters  of  wood- 
bine saucily  swung  their  dark,  glossy  sprays,  and  delicate 
vines  of  '  morning  glory'  just  showed  here  and  there  their 
shrivelled  pink  and  blue  bells.  A  large  "yard"  enveloped 
the  mansion — thickly  studded  with  dandelion  and  white 
clover  blossoms.  In  front  rose-bushes  were  planted,  just 
bursting  into  bloom.  A  bed  of  pinks,  none-so-prettys,  four- 
o'-clocks,  and  star-of-Bethlehems  occupied  a  conspicuous 
corner  ;  patches  of  sweet-clover  and  southern-wood  planted 


11UBINA.  85 

their  fragrant  feet  at  consistently  short  distances ;  an  enor- 
mous snow-ball  bush  drooped  by  the  well-curb.  Lilac-trees 
also  crowned  each  window  front.  From  the  narrow  picket- 
gate  which  swung  heavily  open — owing  to  a  huge  stone, 
depending  from  a  stout  rope  inside — a  walk  of  uneven  flags 
led  to  the  green-painted  open  door.  Two  figures  rose  some- 
what hastily,  the  gentleman  slyly  removing  a  supporting 
arm  from  the  waist — neither  trim  nor  slender — of  his  com- 
panion. 

"  Amandy,"  called  my  aunt,  "  come  and  take  the  baby  ;" 
and  having  dropped  this  burden  into  her  outstretched  arms, 
she  promptly  offered  each  a  hand.  The  gentleman  shook  it 
as  if  unacquainted  with  the  friendly  ceremony,  and  his  color 
rose  painfully  under  Uncle  Jesse's  good-natured  smile. 

"  How  are  all  your  folks  ?"  asked  Aunt  Rhoda. 

"  As  well  as  common,"  he  responded,  indifferently ;  he 
seemed  intently  occupied  in  kicking  a  caterpillar  off  the  flag- 
stone. 

"  Wall,"  said  my  aunt,  wearily,  "  sech  a  tug  as  I've  had, 
this  last  week.  I  declare,  hum's  hum,  ef  it's  ever  so  humly, 
ain't  it,  Iry?" 

But  that  unsympathetic  gentleman  had  turned  away  after 
Amanda ;  my  aunt  gave  me  a  meaning  nod. 

"Hum'm,"  coughed  our  escort,  regaining  his  seat  with 
effort,  "I  s'pect  it's  all  signed,  sealed,  and  delivered;  ain't  it, 
Mrs.  Martin?"  While  she  exchanged  last  words  with  him, 
I  turned  to  look  after  the  lovers — neither  of  whom  had  spo- 
ken, or  in  any  way  noticed  me.  An  ungainly  pair,  they 
looked  to  me.  Ira,  lank,  lean,  light-haired,  and  freckled. 
Amanda,  fat,  with  hair  of  a  redder  tinge,  and  eyes  to  match, 
just  dashed  with  blue.  She  swung  the  disengaged  arm  by 
her  side ;  she  kicked  her  dress  up  behind  in  walking,  in  a 


38  RUBINA. 

fashion  nervous  to  beholders.  No  amiable  look  crossed  her 
brow  when  she  received  into  her  arms  the- unwelcome  addi- 
tion to  the  household.  I  felt  the  slight ;  I  saw  the  look ; 
*nd,  child  as  I  was,  I  resented  it.  My  aunt  interrupted  my 
observations.  "  This  way,"  she  said,  adding  confidentially, 
as  we  went  along,  "  Iry's  a  clever  man,  and'll  be  well  off  one 
of  these  days.  He's  prudent  as  any  one  need  ask  for.  He's 
steppin'  up  to  'Mandy,  you  see."  Turning  a  corner  of  the 
house,  we  came  suddenly  upon  the  milking-yard.  My  aunt 
let  down  the  bars,  and  we  went  in.  Milking  was  not  yet 
over.  Aunt  Rhoda  went  around,  and  patted  the  sleek  heads 
of  her  favorites — a  gentle  twain,  '  Bessy  '  and  '  Mooley,'  re- 
ceived her  attentions  with  intelligent  delight ;  lowing,  and 
rubbing  their  sides  lovingly  against  her  extended  hand. 
"  They  know  me,  the  creeturs  do,  'cause  I'm  their  milker," 
she  explained,  as  I  stared  around.  My  whole  life  had  been 
pent  up  amid  brick  walls ;  my  wonder  at  all  I  saw,  if  unex- 
pressed, was  unbounded. 

"  Well,  Mark,"  as  a  fine  lad  came  bounding  from  the  barn 
to  meet  us.  "  Well,  mother,"  he  echoed,  laughing.  "  Pshaw, 
Mark,  don't  make  a  fool  of  me,"  said  his  mother,  as  he  sud- 
denly stooped  and  kissed  her,  with  a  mixture  of  merriment 
and  earnestness  that  provoked  me  into  a  laugh. 

"  So,  ho  !  you've  got  fun  in  you,  sis,  it  seems  ;  how  dare 
you  laugh  at  me,  you  city  manikin  ?  I  could  make  a  dozen 
of  you  in  size,  Miss  Betsy." 

"My  name  is  not  Betsy,"  I  said,  indignantly.  He  threw 
up  his  hands  in  affected  horror.  "  Perverse,  sacrilegious 
vretch  !  deny  your  Christian  name  ?  I  should  think  you'd 
be  afraid  a  judgment  would  follow.  Betsy's  a  good  name, 
and  a  beautiful  one.  It  belonged  to  your  ancestors.  Take, 
eat  it,  and  be  thankful." 


RUBINA.  37 

"  I  don't  like  it,"  I  faltered  ;  believing  him  in  earnest. 
_  "  I  don't  see  how  you  can  help  yourself," — and  he  grave- 
ly watched  my  working  features.  "  It's  wicked  to  repudiate 
it,  though  by  paying  a  good,  round  sum,  we  might  get  the 
Committee  on  changes,  to  alter  it ; — ever  heard  of  the  Com- 
mittee ?" 

I  was  silent  from  indignation.  "  Oh !  don't  tease  the 
child,"  broke  in  his  mother,  sharply.  "You'll  get  her  a  cryin' 
in  a  minnit.  What  do  you  allers  want  to  be  a  pickin'  on 
some  one  for?  I  should  think  you  might  be  in  better  busi- 
ness. Don't  mind  him," — she  added,  to  me.  "  There's  your 
Cousin  Demis,  down  by  the  gate,"  pointing  in  the  direction 
indicated. 

It  appears  the  little  romp,  herself,  saw  us.  A  race  was 
the  consequence  ;  a  race  destined  to  be  luckless.  She  shook 
her  thick  fringe  of  hair  over  her  eyes,  and  started  one  of  the 
peaceable  cows,  at  the  outset ;  and  on  they  came,  the  domes- 
tic cavalry  and  infantry  together. 

"  Halloa  !  Demie,  I'll  bet  on  the  cow,"  shouted  Mark  to 
her. 

"  And  m  bet  on  the  gal,"  answered  a  voice  from  the 
barn-door.  In  her  headlong"  course,  not  noticing,  or  heeding 
the  fact  that  a  figure  was  crossing  the  yard  to  the  dairy,  she 
brought  up  against  that  worthy,  with  an  emphasis  which 
precipitated  both  to  the  ground,  and  sent  the  white  foam 
flying  high  in  the  air.  The  empty  pails  flew  away  on  the 
trampled  grass;  the  cow  lumbered  on. 

"  Hurrah  !"  cried  Mark,  "I've  won  the  bet ;  for  here  comes 
the  cow.  Father,  you've  lost."  A  hearty  laugh  answered  him. 

My  good  aunt  looked  on  dismayed.  "  Did  you  ever  ?" 
she  ejaculated.  "  Dernis  Martin,  ain't  you  ashamed  of  your- 
self? Ef  you  ain't,  I  am,  for  you."  The  culprit  came  slowly 


38  RUBINA. 

up.  "  What  a  plight  you're  in ;  just  look  at  your  pant'- 
lettes;  you  may  bile  'em,  and  bile  'em,  and  that's  all  the 
good  'twill  do  ;  only  turn  'em  black.  Grass  stains  never 
will  come  out  o'  bleached  cloth."  Demis  looked  heartily 
mortified,  but  she  received  her  scolding  meekly.  "  I  declare 
for't  there  never  was  a  woman  so  tried  afore,"  despairingly 
added  her  mother. 

"  Never  mind,"  broke  in  Mark,  laughing,  "  practice  makes 
perfect,  you  know.  Lift  your  trotters  a  little  higher  next 
time,  my  dear,  and  say  ginger  and  saleratus,  over  vigorously, 
and  who  knows  but  you  may  win,  yet  ?  Our  little  Betsy  has 
bet  heavily  on  your  running,"  he  added,  soberly. 

I  gave  him  an  astonished  glance.  "  Now,  Mark,  stop 
that"  said  his  mother,  severely.  "  Speak  the  truth  if  you  can. 
You'd  better  go  to  work,  ef  you  haint  nothin'  else  on  hand. 
Demis,  come  and  shake  hands  with  your  cousin." 

"  How  do  you  do,  Cousin  Betsy  ?"  she  said,  somewhat  em- 
barrassed, and  she  offered  to  kiss  me,  but  I  pushed  her  away 
roughly.  Mark  was  full  of  suppressed  fun.  "  My  name  is 
not  Betsy,"  I  cried,  angrily.  "  I  won't  stay  here  if  you  call 
me  so." 

"  I  thought  Mark  called  you  so,"  she  pacifically  returned, 
•with  an  indignant  glance  at  her  brother.  "How  could  you! 
Marcus  Martin." 

"It  is  Rubina,"  I  returned,  chokingly.  "Mother  called 
me  Ruby — " 

"  Don't  be  angry  with  me,"  said  Demis,  plaintively.  "  I 
never  do  any  thing  right ;  I'm  always  in  hot  water,  mother 
says."  She  took  my  hand,  and  under  her  auspices,  I  en- 
tered the  kitchen.  We  met  Deborah,  the  "  help,"  on  the 
threshold,  thoroughly  drenched.  She  said  not  a  word,  but 
darted  sullenly  severe  glances  at  us,  abashing  me  somewhat, 


39 


but  which  Dem  is  relished  hugely.  "  My  sates  alive,"  she 
whispered,  "  ain't  old  Deb  mad  though  ?  I  spilt  two  pails  of 
milk,  as  clean  as  a  whistle."  Sitting  down  on  the  doorsiil, 
she  burst  into  convulsive  laughter.  I  could  not  join  in  it, 
and  she  presently  looked  up  in  my  face,  "  How  tired  you  do 
look,"  she  said  kindly.  "  You're  as  pale  as  a  ghost.  Now 
sit  right  down  there,  by  the  window,  and  let  me  take  off  your 
things."  This  she  did.  She  placed  a  stool  under  my  feet  ; 
she  treated  me,  in  short,  like  an  invalid.  Going  off  for  the 
baby,  she  returned,  tossing  it  merrily  ;  then  placing  it  in  my 
lap,  off  she  flitted  to  the  pantry  for  milk  with  which  to  feed 
her.  "  I'll  have  supper  ready  in  no  time,"  she  added  to 
Debby,  who  muttered  angrily,  "  You'd  better,  ef  you  know 
when  you're  well  off." 

I  surveyed  the  kitchen  —  a  long,  low  room,  fashioned  after 
the  manner  of  country  kitchens  of  those  days.  Great  iron 
hooks  fastened  securely  in  the  plaster  above,  supported 
parallel  poles,  on  which  hung  freshly-ironed  garments  of 
all  shapes  and  sizes  ;  a  goodly  array,  telling  —  better  than 
mere  words  —  of  the  family  numbers.  Around  the  room, 
on  convenient  nails,  branches  of  asparagus  hung  ;  not  for  or- 
nament merely  —  though  that  too  was  considered  —  but  as  de- 
coy resting-places  for  troublesome  flies,  who  were  supposed  to 
be  not  indifferent  to  these  delicate  green  couches.  Indeed, 
they  buzzed  furiously  around  the  feathery  sprays,  and  settled 
finally  in  little  black  colonies  for  a  night's  repose.  Two  per- 
pendicular wooden  slabs,  fastened  at  top  and  bottom  with 
cross-pieces,  thickly  notched  adown  their  sides,  stood  back 
to  back  with  the  fireplace.  A  few  strings  of  quartered 
apples  —  the  relics  of  winter  stores  —  rested  in  these  notches. 
A  stove  in  front  performed  the  drying  process.  No  musty 
carpet  covered  the  floor;  that  shone  resplendent  in  a  fresh 


40  RUBINA. 

coat  of  yellow  paint.  Such  chairs  I  never  before  saw :  tall, 
carved  "  fiddle-backed" — with  scats  of  narrow  strips  of  listing, 
thickly  braided,  forming  a  couch  soft  and  yielding.  On 
the  white-washed  wall,  in  a  narrow  black-painted  frame,  hung 
the  serene  face  of  Thomas  Jefferson.  As  companion  picture 
to  this,  appeared  a  truthful  vision  of  "The  Prodigal  Son 
returned  to  his  Father."  I  could  scarcely  take  my  eyes 
from  it.  I  thought  this  illustration  of  the  beautiful  parable 
most  wonderful — the  very  seedy  young  man,  in  ragged 
broadcloth,  long-tailed  coat,  of  the  true  Continental  type, 
with  his  bundle  (containing,  doubtless,  a  change  of  linen) 
tied  up  in  a  red  kerchief,  slung  over  his  shoulder  like  a 
peddler's  pack,  rushing  furiously  toward  his  home  in  the  dis- 
tance— a  substantial  two-story  house,  with  green  blinds, 
through  which  peep  the  "  invited  guests,"  bidden  before- 
hand to  celebrate  his  return.  His  poor,  old  father,  with 
long,  white  locks  streaming  in  the  wind,  hastens  with*  out- 
stretched arms  to  embrace  him.  His  two  sisters  are  also 
starting  from  the  door,  dressed  becomingly  in  yellow  frocks, 
with  pink  sashes.  I  fancied  I  could  almost  smell  the  "  fatted 
calf"  roasting  away  in  the  back  kitchen.  Then  I  fell  to 
wondering  why  the  artist  had  omitted  the  mother  from  this 
family  reunion  ;  unless,  indeed,  his  undutiful  conduct  had 
long  ago  brought  down  her  gray  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the 
grave.  I  ventured  to  mention  this  to  my  Cousin  Demis. 
She  stopped  her  work  a  moment — pondered,  then  merrily 
answered,  that  "she  was  probablv  washing  the  dishes,  and 
did  not  know  of  his  arrival."  I  liked  the  kitchen.  Every 
one  of  its  clean,  homely  details  met  my  full  childish  appro- 
bation. Neither  did  a  peep  into  "  the  buttery"  diminish  it. 
I  caught  glimpses  of  mingled  rows  of  dark  blue  crockery, 
piesr  and  cakes,  which  Demis  was  swiftly  transferring  to 


RUBINA.  41 

the  largo  square  table.  She  spun  to  and  fro  lite  a  top,  with 
a  cheery,  buoyant  motion,  altogether  new  to  me.  Her  clum- 
sily-made calico  dress,  could  not  disguise  her  graceful  form. 
Where  did  she  get  that  oval  face,  with  its  rich  dark  color? 
the  crimson  cheeks  and  the  perfect  mouth  ;  the  jetty  hair,  and 
eyes  large,  soft,  and  mournful  ?  Where  the  pliant  swiftness 
of  motion ;  the  slender  shape  ;  small  feet  and  hands,  which 
her  sister  lacked  ?  Xot  from  her  mother,  certainly.  Occasion- 
ally she  came  to  my  side  to  playfully  chuck  Annah  under 
the  chin,  or  to  give  her  a  toss  and  a  kiss.  These  meteoric 
flights  were  soon  checked  by  her  mother's  voice  issuing  from 
an  inner  room  with,  "  Flax  right  round  now,  Demis  Martin, 
and  see  how  quick  you  can  git  the  vittals  on  the  table.  The 
men-folks'll  be  in  afore  long." 

The  invisible  monitress  now  appeared ;  having  prudently 
doffed  her  best  array,  and  assumed  in  its  stead  a  huge-flow- 
ered calico  frock,  and  blue-checked  apron — the  latter  gar- 
ment made  in  an  odd  fashion,  with  a  high  waist,  and  broad 
shoulder-straps.  She  came  out  rolling  up  her  sleeves  to  her 
elbows,  preparatory  to  an  onset  among  the  treasures  of  the 
dairy.  Thither  she  briskly  posted ;  and  I  heard  her  sharp, 
coarse  voice  shortly  after,  greeting  the  "  men-folks"  as  she 
skimmed  the  milk,  and  set  the  curd  for  the  morning's  cheeses, 
and  related  her  late  adventures  in  "  the  city." 

A  man  now  came  in,  whom  Demis  led  up  to  me  and 
introduced  as  her  father.  Uncle  Joel  was  a  tall,  portly 
figure — slightly  obese — with  a  fresh,  good-natured  face,  and 
large,  dark,  dreamy  eyes — the  counterparts  of  Demis's.  He 
stooped  a  little  with  much  labor,  but  he  had  not  the  usual 
shuiBing  gait  of  country  people.  I  liked  him  at  the  first 
glance ;  so  kindly  beamed  his  eye  as  he  took  my  hand,  a 
hearty  welcome  quivering  on  his  full,  red  lips.  He  did  not 


42  EUBINA. 

utter  it.  There  was  no  need.  "  Actions  speak  louder  than 
words."  He  lifted  us  both  on  his  knee,  and  passed  his 
rough  hand  very  fondly  over  the  baby's  silky  curls.  Very 
•  musical  the  words  which  followed  sounded  to  me,  in  his  soft, 
'•  silvery  tones.  "She's  as  pretty  as  a  pictur',"  he  said,  smi- 
ling at  her ;  at  which  the  little  one  cooed,  and  threw  up  her 
chubby  hands  to  clutch  his  dark,  curling  hair.  "  I  shouldn't 
blame  her  a  bit  for  cryin',  so  many  new  faces  'bout ;  but  she 
don't  seem  to  have  an  idee  on't,  does  she  ?  I  hope  you  will 
like  to  stay  here,  my  dear,"  he  added,  kissing  us  both,  and 
setting  us  down  rather  hastily,  as  Aunt  Ehoda  entered  the 
room. 

Derais  announced  supper.  Deborah  placed  the  chairs,  and 
marshalled  the  family  to  their  places.  She  deserves  a  word 
of  mention.  She  was  fat, — not  fair,  and  certainly  not  less 
than  forty.  (I  ventured  one  day,  long  after,  to  ask  her  age, 
and  was  punished  for  my  impudent  silliness :  she  turned  on 
me,  snappishly  retorting,  "  Most  a  hundered  ;  and  you're  a 
sassy  minx !")  She  had  lived  at  my  uncle's  since  Mark  was 
born — seventeen  years  ago — and  was,  consequently,  very 
much  attached  to  all.  She  always  offered  advice  on  doubtful 
questions,  and  not  unfrequently  decided  mooted  cases.  She 
was  considered  by  them,  and  also  considered  herself,  quite 
one  of  the  family-.  This  evening  she  appropriated  the  baby 
to  her  own  lap,  telling  me  "  she  was  used  to  bringin'  on  'em 
up,  and  I  warn't ;"  pointing  to  the  stalwart  group  surround- 
ing the  table  for  illustration  of  this  assertion.  Little  Natty, 
a  blue-eyed,  curly-haired  rogue  of  four  years,  claimed  most 
of  her  devotion.;  but  they  were  evidently  all  the  pride  of 
her  heart,  and  if  you  taxed  her  with  partial  fondness  for  owe, 
she  indignantly  denied  it.  On  all  their  short-comings  she 
looked  with  lenient  eyes,  and  treated  them  with  alternations 


EUBINA.  43 

0 

of  parental  authority  and  humble  deference,  curious  to  wit- 
ness'; allowing  none  to  blame  or  find  fault  with  them — save 
herself — without  sturdy  vindication,  often  angry  defence. 
She  often  exercised  this  unbestowed  privilege,  and  rated 
them  roundly,  pouring  out  on  some  trivial  fault  the  whole 
contents  of  her  vial  of  wrath.  They  usually  took  this  good- 
naturedly,  as  a  piece  of  no  unseemly  interference.  Then, 
after  she  had  thus  given  her  opinions  an  indignant  airing, 
she  always  made  haste  to  palliate  their  severity,  by  some 
especial  act  of  kindness,  which  amply  atoned  for  "  hurting 
their  feelings."  No  wonder  they  all  liked  her.  She  was  an 
affectionate  creature ;  and  would  cheerfully  have  laid  down 
her  own  life,  if,  thereby,  theirs  could  have  been  saved  from 
any  peril.  She  surveyed  her  infant  charge  this  evening  with 
a  broad  smile.  "  I  don't  see,  for  the  life  of  me,  what  makes 
all  the  babies  take  to  me  so,  such  a  humly,  ugly  old  crittur  ; 
Dwight,  if  you're  through,  jest  let  me  hev  your  cheer." 
Dwight  was  a  sulky-looking  boy  of  seven,  rarely  speaking, 
save  when  directly  addressed,  and  even  then  replying  by  an 
affirmative  nod,  or  negative  shake  of  the  head.  He  was 
always  sending  suspicious  glances  around  the  board  to  detect 
a  whisper  or  sneer  levelled  at  him  ;  if,  peradventure,  he  saw 
a  sinile  on  a  lip,  he  imagined  himself  the  cause,  sullenly  re- 
pelling proof  to  the  contrary.  That  first  night  he  never 
looked  at  me.  He  rose  at  Deborah's  request,  somewhat  re- 
sentfully ;  and  swung  away  silently.  It  was  days  before  he 
ventured  to  be  civil. 

But  dear  little  Nat.  I  still  see  how  he  curled  his  tiny, 
brown,  bare  feet  into  his  chair,  his  eyes  sparkling  with  fun  ; 
how  his  soft,  brown  curls  flew,  when  abruptly  released  from 
the  coarse,  ragged  straw  hat  binding  them  down.  His  chair 
was  close  to  mine,  and  after  a  shy  peep  at  my  face — which  I 


44  ^RTJBINA. 

as  shyly  returned — he  seemed  to  feel  that  he  risked  nothing 
by  the  venture,  and  cunningly  slid  one  fat,  warm  palm  into 
ray  own. 

After  tea  was  over,  the  large  family  scattered  in  different 
directions.  Amanda  stole  to  the  "  keeping-room,"  with  a 
basin  of  soap  and  water,  and  arranged  her  yellow  tresses. 
She  wearied  herself  out  in  endeavors  to  coax  "  water-curls" 
around  her  thin  temples.  I  was  amused  at  her  contortions 
of  mouth  and  forehead  during  this  operation.  She*certainly 
possessed  one  virtue — Patience;  for  the  difficulties  in  her 
way  were  considerable.  One  lock  was  too  large  for  her  pur- 
pose ;  she  divided  it.  It  was  now  too  thin ;  she  added  a 
few  hairs,  with  frequent  dippings  in  the  basin  of  water  to 
render  it  more  pliable.  Then  she  soaped  it,  and  rolled  the 
stiff,  dingy  tress  over  one  freckled  forefinger,  adroitly  plas- 
tering it  against  the  spot  desired.  It  would  not  stay,  but 
came  tumbling  down  in  a  series  of  fantastic  twists.  Again 
she  twined  it  into  one  solid  ring,  and  spatted  it  vehemently 
into  place ;  and  again  it  leapt  back  exultant.  Mark  saun- 
tered in,  and  watched  her,  with  a  roguish  twinkle  in  his  hazel 
eyes.  "  Oh  !  cut  it  off  a  few  inches ;  it's  too  long,"  he  sug- 
gested. She  caught  at  this  idea,  eagerly.  Clip — the  tress  fell 
to  the  floor.  Alas  !  it  was  now  stiffcr,  harsher  than  before. 

"  Humbug !  There's  no  curl  in  your  hair,  Amanda. 
That's  the  reason  it  won't  go  off,"  was  Demis's  ironical  ex- 
clamation. 

"  Let's  see  you  try,  Miss  ?"  scornfully  retorted  her  sister. 

"  To  be  sure."  Demis  let  down  her  heavy  tresses,  dipped 
a  lock  in  the  water,  rolled  it  up  carelessly,  and  it  fell  in  a 
graceful  ringlet.  Mark  pulled  it  admiringly.  Amanda-gave 
a  defiant  sniff. 

"There's  nothing   like   trying,"   encouragingly  persisted 


EUBINA.  45 

Mark ;  "  don't  give  up  yet,  the  world  was  not  made  in  a  day, 
you  know." 

"  I  know  you're  a  hateful,  disagreeable,  ugly  wretch," 
Amanda  irefully  retorted. 

"  I've  discovered  the  reason  of  her  perseverance,"  imper- 
turbably  resumed  the  family  tease,  "  Ira  adores  curls,  and 
especially  likes  "  spit-curls  ;  I  heard  him  say  so  t'other  day, 
—fact," 

Amanda  turned  suspiciously  red  at  this  announcement. 

"  What  in  thunder  are  you  blushing  so  confoundedly  for  ?" 
he  blurted  out,  looking  innocent  wonder.  "  Have  I  said 
any  thing,  girls,  to  call  out  all  that  madder  tint?  I  wonder 
if  thafs  what  took  Ira's  heart  by  storm  ?  Such  a  lovely 
shade  of  red  !  just  the  color  in  the  carpet  here  ! — curls  and 
blushes  !  Whew  !"  He  finished  with  a  long,  low  whistle. 

"  You're  the  most  provokiu'est  feller  I  ever  see,"  angrily 
interrupted  Amanda,  catching  up  the  basin  and  hastily  dart- 
ing into  the  entry,  just  as  her  brother  was  resuming. 

"  Poh !  there's  no  fun  in  joking  her ;  she  flies  all  to 
pieces ;"  and  Master  Mark  seated  himself  by  the  open  win- 
dow, on  theeilgeof  the  table,  dropping  his  long  legs  outside. 
"  Demie,  you  are  better  game  ;  you  keep  your  temper.  I 
don't  know  yet  as  to  Betsy  there ;  she  is  fiery,  I  rather 
think  ;  her  eyes  have  a  hard  look  to  them,  as  if  they  might 
turn  if  you  pushed  them  in  their  sockets.  Come  here  and 
let  me  test  it." 

I  declined  soberly.  He  gave  me  a  curious  smile,  and 
mockingly  shook  at  me  his  fist. 

"  Well,  Demie,  I  must  content  myself  with  teazing  you." 
She  gave  his  flaxen  tresses  a  vigorous  pull  :  "Ah !  what  a 
sad  contrast  to  mine."  He  twined  his  arm  fondly  around 
her,  "  I  vow  you're  a  regular  gypsy  lassie,  Demie ;  eyes 


46  KUBINA. 

black  as  night,  and  tawny  skin ;  my  nut-brown  maiden,  I 
wish  Dame  Nature  had  bestowed  like  favors  upon  me.  A 
man" — he  erected  himself  proudly — "  has  no  business  with  a 
milk-and-water  face.  Amanda  and  you  should  have  looked 
alike,  it's  the  natural  duty  of  sisters  ;  but  you  are  so  perverse, 
you  know." 

"  And  so  are  you,  Mark,  or  you  would  not  persist  in 
hanging  your  great  feet  there,  after  mother  has  repeatedly 
ordered  you  not  to." 

"  I  believe  she  has  expressed  her  mind  on  that  point,"  he 
replied  coolly. 

"  And  you'll  sup  sorrer  ef  you  don't  attend  to  what  she 
says,  now  I  tell  ye,"  remarked  Debby,  putting  her  good- 
natured  face  into  the  room. 

"  He  is  only  making  ready  to  go  to  singing-school  when 
Olive  comes  along,"  said  Demis  archly,  "  and  here  she  comes 
down  the  hill.  Why,  Mark,  who  is  blushing  now  ?" 

He  laughed,  sprang  to  the  ground,  and  went  off  singing. 
From  a  side  window  I  watched  how  deferentially  he  turned 
toward  her,  as  her  little  head  nodded  emphasis  to  his  wag- 
gish prattle.  I  thought  she  looked  fair  and  sweet  enough 
to  turn  any  sober  lover's  head,  much  more  the  heart  of 
my  wild  Cousin  Mark.  Her  laugh  rang  out  like  a  silver 
chime.  Her  form  was  that  of  a  fairy.  "  He  thinks  all  the 
world  of  her,  and  she  of  him,"  oracularly  pronounced  Demis, 
peeping  over  my  shoulder  at  the  happy  pair,  "  and  oh ! 
there's  Ira  coming  for  Amanda,  and  I  don't  believe  she's 
ready."  She  darted  away  to  summon  her  sister. 

Looking  back  now  to  that  first  night  among  new-found 
relatives,  I  can  see  that  in  those  few  hours  there  was  revealed 
much  of  their  real  character.  My  impressions  were  subse- 
quently confirmed.  Then  I  only  was  conscious  of  being 


ItUBINA.  47 

translated  into  an  entirely  new  sphere.  The  deadly  grip  of 
home-sickness  clutched  me.  I  swallowed  the  starting  tears, 
and  tried — oh !  so  resolutely — to  think  of  it  as  an  old  thing 
with  me ;  as  if  these  were  faces,  forms,  I  had  long,  long 
known.  In  vain.  Busy  life — eager,  bustling,  happy — filled 
those  hearts  around  me*  The  placid  content  of  minds,  yet 
free  from  scourging  care  and  sorrow,  cast  its  sheltering 
mantle  over  that  peaceful  roof.  Having  experienced  both 
care  and  sorrow,  I  alone  felt  the  scantiness  of  its  covering. 
Though  a  welcome,  genial  and  true,  shone  on  every  counte- 
nance for  the  strangers — ah,  yes !  that  was  the  trouble — I 
felt  as  "  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land."  *  *  *  It  appeared, 
a  little  later,  that  I  was  to  share  my  two  cousins'  room.  In 
a  lowly  "  linter  "  chamber,  two  beds  occupied  opposite  cor- 
ners. Demis  proffered  her  active  services  in  bestowing  the 
baby  in  one ;  she  accomplished  this  most  skilfully  without 
awaking  her.  We  had  a  vigorous  resistance  from  Deborah, 
who  wanted  her  for  a  bedfellow.  She  insisted  that  she 
would  keep  me  awake,  but  she  herself  was  used  to  it. 
"  She's  croupy  too,  I  guess,  and  ef  she's  to  be  took  with  a  fit 
in  the  night  what  would  you  do  ?"  I  turned  a  deaf  ear  to 
her  suggestions,  and  Demis  laughed  her  bodings  to  scorn. 

Really,  in  spite  of  the  sloping  walls  and  low  ceiling,  the 
chamber  looked  not  unpleasant.  Perhaps  Demis's  presence 
brightened  it  into  comfort.  She  was  a  perfect  ray  of  sun- 
shine. She  unbraided  my  long  hair,  talking  cheerily  enough 
to  dispel  a  host  of  intruding  tyrants  of  home-sickness.  My 
heart  warmed  to  my  bright,  gay  cousin,  but  I  felt  too  dis- 
pirited to  answer  in  the  same  vein,  and  I  listened  to  her 
prattle  in  silence.  It  was  no  consolation  either  to  reflect  on 
the  bitter,  unwelcome  truth,  that  I  had  really  no  home  to 
sicken  and  long  for.  I  left  no  one  behind  me  to  await  my 


48  EUBINA. 

return,  to  comfort  the  present  parting  with  thoughts  of  a 
future  meeting.  My  brief  past  was  a  chapter  forever  closed 
Only  a  solitary  grave  in  Greenwood  beckoned  my  wandering 
fancy ;  but  my  thoughts  returned  to  that  grave  as  to  a  home, 
for  it  held  the  form,  not  yet  dust,  dearest  to  me ;  to  cling 
passionately  to  the  damp  mould ;  to  bestow  upon  it  abun- 
dantly the  fruition  of  tears  ;  to  keep  faithful  watch  over  the 
humble  headstone — shining  out  in  the  clear  moonlight,  so 
lonely  and  sad  among  the  myriad  stately  monuments — to  me 
the  only  dead  among  so  many  sleepers.  What  a  great  chasm 
had  rent  itself  into  my  life  in  one  short  week  ?  I  vaguely 
wondered  if  I  should  always  be  so  wretched,  so  miserable,  as 
I  felt  now  ?  Yes,  I  was  sure  of  it.  The  answer  came  distinct, 
ready.  It  seemed  as  if  it  must  be  morning  before  Amanda 
came  up,  but  in  answer  to  my  inquiry  she  said  peevishly, 
that  it  was  only  eleven  o'clock.  She  dropped  off  to  sleep  as 
those  do  who  have  no  cause  to  be  wakeful ;  who  see  only 
brightness  in  prospect,  and  plenty  of  leisure  in  broad  day- 
light in  which  to  dream  of  it ;  when  it  is  so  much  your  own 
that  you  feel  no  haunting  fear  lest  it  elude  your  grasp  or 
burst — an  unsubstantial  bubble — shrivelling  in  its  destruction 
your  dearest  hopes,  purposes. 

Domis  sat  up  in  bed  a  while,  humming  in  a  low,  pure  tone, 
a  fragment  of  some  old  hymn.  Then  she  pensively  chanted 
quaint  "  Barbara  Allen ;"  the  dreary  repetition  at  the  end 
of  each  verse,  echoed  itself  into  a  mournful,  slumberous 
weight  upon  my  ear.  At  last  she  ceased  altogether,  and  to 
all  appearance  slumbered.  Sleep  for  me,  was  out  of  the 
question.  My  tired  eyelids  drooped  mechanically,  but,  ere 
a  moment  closed,  a  nervous  start  relifted  them.  I  raised 
my  head  finally  from  the  pillow,  and  examined  the  room. 
Very  little  was  there  iu  it,  to  repay  my  interest.  A  bureau 


RUBINA.  49 

and  an  old-fashioned  chest  of  drawers,  in  dark  wood,  elab- 
orately carved.  A  chest  painted  red,  and  on  its  front  an 
immense  green  flourish — some  vine — or  merely  an  artistic 
finish,!  could  not  determine  which.  A  coarse  print, labelled 
"  The  Playful  Pets,"  hung  on  the  unpapered,  unwhitewashed 
wall.  I  looked  long  at  it  in  the  moonlight.  It  showed  me 
a  girl  with  very  crimson  cheeks,  and  unnatural  curls,  uplift- 
ing her  pinafore  swarming  with  kittens.  Then  my  eyes  fell 
on  the  counterpane,  also  a  picture,  or  rather  a  succession  of 
uniform  pictures,  stamped  on  a  light  brown  ground  of  cur- 
tain calico.  Blue  lambs  reclined  under  lighter  blue  foliage  ; 
a  brook  purled  along  over  intensely  magnified  pebbles.  There 
sat  a  fond  shepherd  and  shepherdess,  hand  in  hand,  while 
a  dog  guarded  the  listless  flocks.  The  sun,  very  low  in  the 
horizon,  shone  with  wonderful  rays  of  white.  I  thought  it 
a  remarkable  production.  I  lifted  it,  and  looked  at  the  one 
beneath.  This  ground  was  scarlet,  with  trees,  and  animals, 
and — yes ;  it  was  the  garden  of  Eden,  and  there  was  Adam 
and  Eve,  fearlessly  twining  serpents  around  their  arms,  while 
a  lion  crouched  beside  them.  When  I  looked  up  from  my 
survey,  I  almost  shrieked  in  terror;  a  white-robed  figure 
stood  close  at  my  side. 

"  Hush,"  it  whispered,  "  don't  be  frightened,  Cousin  Ru- 
by. You  didn't  hear  me,  you  were  so  absorbed  in  that  quilt, 
and  no  wonder.  Debby  says  it's  over  a  hundred  years  old. 
It  was  my  grandmother's."  I  said  nothing, 

"  Now,  my  child,"  resumed  my  cousin,  "  why  don't  you 
go  to  sleep  ?  It's  very  injurious  keeping  awake  all  night ! 
Are  you  warm  ?"  I  should  have  laughed  at  any  other  time, 
at  her  comical  assumption  of  maternal  solicitude  ;  now  I  only 
looked  wistfully  up  to  her  face,  as  she  bent  over  me — a  look 
which  somehow  made  her  beautiful  dark  eyes  fill  with  tears. 
3 


50  RUBINA. 

She  murmured  something  unintelligible ;  she  crept  by  my  side ; 
she  wound  her  arms  tightly  around  me,  kissing  again  and 
again  my  cold  lips,  chafing  in  her  warm  palms  my  own  icy 
ones.  Her  loving  sympathy  charmed  away  my  grief.  It 
opened,  with  noiseless  key,  the  hitherto  pent-up  floodgates 
of  affection.  The  barren  channels,  unused  so  long,  flowed 
free  and  full  at  last.  No  scanty  measure  filled  it.  A  freshet 
threatened  to  overwhelm  it.  The  rushing  tide  met  an  in- 
coming one,  as  fervent :  united,  they  formed  a  deep  of  love — • 
measureless,  soundless.  From  that  night  we  were  to  each 
other  more  than  sisters. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

OUT  into  the  Future  rolled  Time's  chariot  wheels.  Days 
sad,  solitary,  busy,  happy ;  according  to  our  changeful  mood, 
wove  themselves  into  uneventful  weeks ;  these,  in  their  turn, 
craving  fellowship,  made  haste  to  join  themselves  unto 
months  as  monotonous.  A  year  slipped  from  the  calendar 
ere  we  were  aware.  The  sudden  change — from  a  vast,  roar- 
ing whirlpool  of  Life  ;  a  very  Babylon  of  sound  ;  a  ceaseless 
ebb  and  flow  of  humanity's  tide ;  when,  though  not  one  of 
the  outside  throng  yet  in  its  very  midst ;  gathering  moment- 
ly an  unobservant  consciousness  of  its  myriad  busy  forces,  to 
a  Sabbath-like  quietude,  a  perpetual,  holy  calm — as  though 
I  had  left  a  world's  day,  and  entered  upon  its  night  of  rest — 
bred  a  brief  feeling  of  lonely  dissatisfaction,  which  I  shortly 
exchanged  for  pleasurable  content. 

"  Northfield  Farms "  was  an  obscure,  uninteresting  town, 
deserving  no  especial  mention.  There  are  many  such  towns 


RUBINA.  51 

scattered  at  intervals  along  the  fertile  valley's  slope — for  it  is 
fertile,  green,  and  charming — many  of  them  dignified  by 
names  quaint  and  romantic ;  many  also  are  the  sweet,  sig- 
nificant designations  of  natives  of  the  forest ;  thus  simply 
perpetuating,  among  the  hardy  sons  of  our  grim  Puritan 
sires,  these  solitary  vestiges  of  a  poetry  and  a  language  long 
since  passed  away.  It  was,  as  its  name  indicates,  a  collec- 
tion of  Farms  extending  ove,r  a  wide  area.  The  village  prop- 
er, was  "  The  Centre ;"  yet  radiating  from  this  were  groups 
of  lesser  colonies  of  more  recent  planting,  distinguished — as 
is  commonly  the  case  in  New  England — by  various  charac- 
teristic sobriquets. 

"The  Farms"  contained  accordingly,  my  uncle's,  and  a 
few  neighboring  estates.  To  the  west,  loomed  "  The  Facto- 
ries." .  Here,  a  swift,  rushing  mountain  stream,  dignified 
with  the  name  of  "  The  River,"  added  its  quota  to  aid  hu- 
man subsistence,  by  turning  the  wheels  of  numerous  mills 
along  its  banks.  This  was  the  thriving  part  of  the  popula- 
tion. Here  were  mills  of  nearly  every  description.  Woollen, 
cotton,  and  grist  mills ;  mills  for  making  warps,  batting ; 
calico  print-works,  and  a  paper-mill,  of  every  degree  of 
outward  show,  from  the  rickety  tenement  of  decaying,  paint- 
less  wood — quaking  fearfully  with  the  constant  jar  of  its  ma- 
chinerv ;  waking  ominous  shakes  of  the  sagacious  farmers' 
heads,  and  long  speeches  in  the  village  Lyceum,  regarding 
its  durability,  and  the  safety  of  its  operatives — to  the  firmly 
planted  structure  of  brick,  and  massive  erections  of  quarry 
marble. 

There  were  besides,  "  East  Northfield,"  and  scores  of  minor 
designations,  originating  in  odd  seasons  of  mirthfulness. 
"  The  Hook,"  ';  Scrabble  Row,"  and  "  Thunder,"  among 
these,  enjoyed  a  proportionate  degree  of  uncertain  celebrity. 


52  KUBINA. 

Prosaic  enough,  these  colonies  were,  in  detail.  Old  fash- 
ioned simplicity  marked  them  for  its  own.  The  same  som- 
bre characteristics  also  tinged  the  inhabitants  with  a  kind  of 
antediluvian  aspect  in  manner  and  dress.  It  was  as  though 
the  sturdy  independence  of  the  surrounding  scenery  threw 
around  them  its  quiet  reflection.  Born,  suckled,  reared  in 
the  cold,  dark  shadow  of  these  grim,  rocky  ledges  of  un- 
disputed antiquity ;  the  grand  old  mountains  fostered  cor- 
responding elements  in  their  characters ;  and  hardy  en  durance, 
stubborn  tenacity  of  will,  immovable  purpose,  stalked  forth 
with  resolute  front  at  every  turn  in  these  secluded  hamlets- 
I  liked  well  the  uncompromising  hills,  gloomily  frowning 
from  the  dread  depths  of  their  rock-ribbed  precipices.  I 
liked  the  pastoral  beauty  of  the  vale  below.  Fields  of  wav- 
ing grain — dancing  lullabies  to  passing  breezes — encircled  it. 
Fertile  meadow  uplands — green,  soft,  and  daisy -starred — 
dotted  with  kine,  lowing  mournfully  as  sunset  chimes  its  vesper- 
bells;  frisky  with  untamed  colts,  proudly  unconscious  that  hal- 
ter and  bridle-rein  await  them — upheaved  in  gentle  billows  of 
verdure,  toward  the  distant  mountains.  In'the  haze  of  even- 
ing, these  latter  take  on  shapes  mystical  and  dreamy.  Its 
kindly  robe  screens  all  startling  deformities.  Dreamily 
leaning  against  the  heavens,  its  own  azure  hue  envelops 
them  ;  their  summits  seem  to  pierce  triumphantly  its  vaulted 
dome,  and  sharp,  rough  outlines  melt  into  mist  and  space. 

I  liked  to  watch  the  gradual  paling  of  the  vivid  sunset 
fires ;  crimson,  scarlet,  gold,  nestling  for  a  night's  repose  in 
the  arms  of  pale  purple  and  unromantic  gray;  and  the 
moon,  as  she  cautiously  lifted  her  bright  edges  above  the 
eastern  mountain -tops,  then — suddenly  growing  confident — 
boldly  displayed  her  whole,  laughing  visage,  and  serenely 
ventured  on  her  midnight  march. 

I  should  say  "we,"  for  Mark  or  Dcmis  always  shared  my 


KUBINA.  53 

rambles.  At  this  hour  we  two  marched  homeward — specu- 
lating, as  we  trudged  along,  on  our  probable  reception.  We 
usually  got  a  cool  one.  My  aunt  neither  liked  or  approved 
of  our  excursions.  She  thought  it  a  grievous  waste  of  time 
and  strength  ;  an  unprofitable  investment,  returned  to  us  in 
the  shape  of  damaged  clothing,  and  souls  unfitted  for  prac- 
tical work.  In  our  large  household  was  always  a  dreary 
abundance  of  this  commodity  ;  house-work  that  never  was — 
never  could  be  finished ;  a  monotonous  daily  round  of 
duties — comprised  in  none  so  fully  as  in  a  New  England 
farmer's  family ;  for  on  none,  save  Pilgrim  soil,  are  so  fully 
inculcated  the  stern  necessities  of  labor,  that  will  admit  of 
no  repose.  Every  thing  must  be  finished  "  straight  to  the 
mark."  There  must  never  occur  a  lapse  of  self-indulgent  revery ; 
reading  is  not  tolerated,  save  on  Sundays,  when  the  equally 
strict  religious  belief  renders  work  a  crime,  and  eschews  all 
literature  which  can  possibly  be  regarded  as  secular.  So  the 
days,  months,  and  years  roll  on ;  cooking,  cleansing,  ironing, 
mending,  mark  and  stamp  each,  until  distaste  and  disgust  are 
their  invariable  accompaniments.  Progressive  development  of 
mind  is  a  myth ;  freedom  of  thought  and  action  wilts  lifeless 
as,  sternly  dominant,  rises  the  spectre,  saying,  "  This  must 
be  done ;  that  must  be  attended  to  at  once  •  clothes  must 
be  made,  rents  repaired."  Besides,  my  aunt  held  to  the 
thrifty  notion  that  it  was  best  to  keep  ahead  of  actual  wants, 
and  store  in  chest  and  cupboard  garments  for  future  need. 

Boys  reared  in  such  a  home  often  grow  to  receive  wo- 
man's constant  ministrations  as  their  constitutional  right ; 
they  laugh  and  look  amazed  should  you  suggest  otherwise. 
They  amass  manhood's  full  stature — strong,  ruddy,  vigor- 
ous— having  worked  faithfully  for  their  sires  until,  "  of 
age,"  a  desire  of  independence  seizes  them — they  nur- 


54  RUBIXA. 

ture  fye  wisli  for  a  home  of  their  own.  If  attained — do 
you  think  it  a  modest  place,  fully  cultivated,  proudly  paid 
for,  and  joyfully  taken  possession  of  by  the  twain  ?  (Of 
course  a  wife  is  necessary  for  a  share  of  the  labor.)  Noth- 
ing less  than  a  hundred  acres  will  suffice  ;  on  which  dreary 
patches  of  waste  land  are  to  be  improved,  and  not  an  acre 
paid  for  in  money.  This  is  the  meaning  of  the  unceasing 
toil — the  discharge  of  the  homestead  debt  Haply  if  either 
live  to  see  it  accomplished.  Ere  that  time  arrives,  youth—- 
the season  of  improvement — has  flown ;  age  chills  the  facul- 
ties ;  they  are  ripe  for  the  tomb. 

Aunt  Rhoda  was  styled  by  the  neighbors  "  a  dreadful  am- 
bitious woman,"  and  many  prophecies  floated  to  her  ears 
that  she  would  "  break  down  some  day,  and  hev  to  give 
up."  Still  robust  and  vigorous,  she  indignantly  scouted 
the  idea,  and  bustled  from  garret  to  cellar  on  mysterious 
errands,  whose  results  were  fruitless.  She  inherited  (from 
the  "  Purdys  ;  her  mother's  folks,"  she  would  say,  proudly) 
a  bone  and  muscle  bred  abhorrence  of  any  thing  in  any  shape 
approaching  laziness.  Lounging  about  the  room  with  no 
specific  object,  was  pronounced  "so  shiftless."  Trifles,  run- 
ning counter  to  her  busy  mood,  violently  irritated  her.  She 
went  about  the  morning  offices  as  though  a  treat  were  in 
store — cooking  homely  cakes  and  bread  with  a  relishing 
zeal,  which  would  have  flavored  the  most  intricate  culinary 
mysteries.  Then,  her  step  had  such  a  way  of  saying,  "  Get 
out  of  the  way  ;  /  am  coming ;"  firm,  unswerving,  with  a 
rollicking  motion  of  the  hips,  and  a  shuffle  of  her  "  calf- 
skin ties,"  decidedly  unpoetical,  and  destitute  of  grace. 
Woe  to  grimalkin,  or  puppy,  who  inadvertently  got  in  her 
way  at  such  times.  If  a  "  shoo"  sufficed  not  to  clear  the 
track — whiz !  they  went  flying  across  the  room,  in  obedi- 


KUBINA.  55 

ence  to  a  touch  of  her  vigorous  heel-tap.  Equally  luckless 
the  wight  who  preferred  a  request,  or  communicated  a  piece 
of  news.  The  request  was  certain  of  denial :  the  intelli- 
gence turned  sour,  and  was  spitefully  thrown  back  into  his 
ears,  with  a  few  caustic  remarks  about  tale-bearing  and  gossip. 
The  whole  household  respected  her  moods.  Her  children 
feared,  rather  than  loved  her ;  and  I  also,  in  time,  learned  to 
choose  the  appropriate  seasons  for  approaching  her ;  watch- 
ing anxiously  that  stolid  countenance,  as  a  mariner  studies 
the  changeful  skies  for  winds  propitious ;  for  clouds,  dark, 
restless,  sullen — swift  and  sure  portents  of  storms.  She  was 
a  zealous  worshipper  at  the  old  Baptist  "  meetin'-house." 
Rain,  hail,  or  snow  never  wooed  her  to  a  warm  fireside,  on 
the  occasion  of  the  weekly  services.  Duty  was  the  god  she 
worshipped  :  she  awarded  it  the  guest-chamber  in  her  heart. 
Love,  charity,  and  their  caressing  graces  were  silently  shown 
an  obscure  corner.  Her  very  glance  was  a  terror  to  evil- 
doers ;  with  eager  edge  it  searched  the  countenance,  detect- 
ing each  sign  of  guilt,  and  instinctively  repelling  propitiatory 
confidence.  Let  me  do  her  strict  justice.  Though  her 
virtues  were  of  a  harsher  tint  than  was  altogether  pleasing, 
yet  they  were  virtues,  all  the  same.  She  was  impartial  in 
her  treatment,  on  the  whole,  though  chance  occasions  in- 
dicated a  preference  for  her  eldest  son  and  daughter.  Hers 
was  a  nature  which  could  not  be  softened  into  grace  and 
beauty  by  childish  caresses — by  material  prosperity.  The 
first  she  instinctively  scorned  and  repelled ;  the  latter  only 
made  the  angular  lines  more  rigid,  with  suspicions  of  a 
speedily  approaching  downfall.  Debby,  in  private,  declared 
her  "  dreadful  conceity,  and  allers  a  borfowin'  sorrer ;"  but 
she  regarded  her  with  awe,  nevertheless,  and  zealously 
endeavored  to  please  her. 


56  RUBINA. 

She  punished  me,  if  in  her  opinion  I  deserved  it,  exactly 
as  she  did  her  own  brood  ;  and  such  punishments,  once  re- 
solved on,  could  never  be  averted  or  delayed  one  hour  by 
penitent  entreaties.  She  wielded  the  rod,  inexorable  as  fate ; 
stern  and  awful  her  countenance  looked.  She  would  have 
made  a  step-mother  after  the  prevailing  opinion  of  such 
second-hand  dames.  Strictly,  justice  would  have  been  ad- 
ministered ;  rigidly,  order  would  have  been  maintained ; 
and  turbulent  riot  and  anarchy  would  have  fled  affrighted 
and  appalled  at  the  sound  of  her  advancing  footsteps. 


CHAPTER  V. 

FROM  one  of  these  rambles  we  came  home  late — as  usual. 
In  our  absence  the  kitchen  had  received  a  new  occupant.  A 
middle-aged  lady — strange  to  me — sat  by  the  three-legged 
light-stand,  busily  sewing.  She  impressed  me,  though  in 
what  way  I  could  not  tell,  for  her  appearance  was  not  extra- 
ordinary. She  wore  a  black  and  white  calico  dress,  a  long, 
narrow,  black  alpaca  apron,  trimmed  with  gimp,  decorated 
with  ample  three-cornered  pockets;  from  these  she  drew  strips 
of  gayly-figured  chintz  which  she  sewed  together.  She  was 
evidently  in  mourning.  The  sight  of  black  garments  always 
distressed  me :  to  brush  them  with  my  hand  gave  me  a  creep- 
ing sensation,  something  akin  to  placing  a  finger  on  a  cold, 
dead  face  ;  suggesting  to  my  mind  their  near  kinship  to  the 
shroud  and  the  pall.  Such  symbols  of  woe  then  I  shunned. 
But  this  image  attracted,  instead  of  repelling.  Her  pale 
yellow  hair  was  pushed  back  from  her  forehead  ;  around  it 
was  wound — several  times — a  long  strip  of  narrow  black  vel- 


RUBINA.  57 

vet,  tied  in  a  bow  on  one  side.  It  was  a  pleasant,  pale  face, 
wrinkled  a  little ;  age,  or  care,  had  tracked  a  few  footmarks 
on  it,  but  they  could  not  have  been  called  disfiguring.  The 
eyes  were  large,  full, — in  color  a  kindly  blue.  The  brow 
rose  above  them  high  and  prominent ;  a  self-asserting  brow ; 
causality  and  memory  unusually  developed.  A  phrenologist 
would  say  at  once  that  it  was  a  strong,  steady,  reflective 
brow;  a  logical,  patient  thinker;  persistent  in  argument, 
unyielding  in  debate.  So  much  for  her  brief  photograph. 

She  looked  up  pleasantly  as  the  door  opened,  transferred 
her  work  to  her  left  hand,  and  held  out  her  right,  which 
Demis  caught  and  shook  heartily. 

"  Why,  Miss  Charity,  when  did  you  come  ?"  said  she  in 
surprise. 

"  Ef  you'd  a  staid  to  hum,  you'd  a  seen,"  very  grimly  in- 
terposed her  mother,  looking  with  great  disfavor  at  Demis, 
and  hastily  scanning  her  circumference  to  discover  probable 
rents.  Demis — noting  this — saucily  swung  herself  in  front 
of  her  mother,  confident,  for  once,  in  being  able  to  endure 
the  scrutiny. 

"  You  have  come  to  begin  school,  I  reckon  ?"  was  her 
cool  address  to  the  stranger. 

"Yes!  I  hope  you  are  glad,"  said  Miss  Charity  ;  "you 
have  had  a  long  play-spell ;  all  play  and  no  work  makes  Jack 
a  mere  toy,  you  know."  There  was  a  quaint  tremble  in  Miss 
Charity's  voice,  as  if  from  emotion  or  weakness,  which  made 
one's  voice  soften  sympathetically.  I  have  observed  it  since 
in  none  but  very  aged  people.  Demis  made  a  grimace.  "  I 
dont  know  about  the  glad;  I  suppose  I  must  grin  and  bear 
it  though." 

"Demis  Martin!"  severely  said  her  mother,  eying  her  as 
if  she  had  broken  the  whole  string  of  the  ten  commandment 
3* 


58  RUBIXA. 

beads.  Demis  pursued  placidly,  shrinking  away  a  little  from 
her  mother,  "  Did  you  have  a  good  school  in  Scrabbletown  ?" 

"  Pretty  fair ;  there  were  some  hard  cases  to  manage,  but, 
on  the  whole,  nothing  to  speak  of.  Children  will  be  chil- 
dren, you  know,"  she  added  apologetically,  turning  to  my 
aunt.  That  worthy  compressed  her  thin  lips  still  more 
decidedly.  She  gave  back  one  brisk  nod,  as  if  to  say,  "  I 
know  all  about  the  class,  Miss  Charity,  more  than  you  can 
ever  tell  me,"  and  her  flying  knitting-needles  kept  time  to 
her  sharp,  restless  glances. 

"  Ah !"  exclaimed  Demis,  pouncing  upon  the  "  school- 
marm's  "  work,  "  you  are  making  more  hussys.  Those  are 
for  the  last  day,  Ruby ;  perhaps  you'll  get  one  if  you  behave 
yourself  ;  those  pink  and  green  ones  are  the  prettiest."  She 
chattered  volubly.  Miss  Charity  laughed  softly. 

"  Do  you  really  give  them  away  ?"  I  ventured  to  ask, 
shyly  turning  them  over  for  inspection  ;  cunning  little  pockets 
filled  one  side ;  some  were  finished,  rolled  neatly,  and  tied 
with  bits  of  narrow  satin  ribbon. 

"To  my  best  little  girls,"  she  answered  primly ;  "they 
are  very  handy  to  keep  thread  and  needles  in.  I  dare  say 
you  will  get  one,"  she  finished,  with  prophetic  kindness. 

I  was  far  from  feeling  sure  of  it ;  they  looked  like  miracu- 
lous achievements ;  my  eyes  gleamed  with  covetousness,  I  am 
sure.  To  pass  it  off,  I  inquired,  "  And  what  do  you  give 
to  the  boys  ?" 

"  Oh  !"  interrupted  Demis,  kindling,  "  you  should  see. 
The  prettiest  little  butterflies,  and  birds  of  all  sizes,  robin 
redbreasts,  and  blue  jays,  and  oh  ! — lots  of  things.  You 
paint  as  well  as  Mark  does,  Miss  Charity,"  she  finished  eagerly, 
intending  a  compliment. 

Aunt  Rhoda's  face  gathered  an  additional  frown,  but  she 


EUBINA.  59 

restrained  herself.  Deborah,  who  sat  in  one  corner  darning 
hose,  her  knees  tightly  placed  together  and  an  iron  candle- 
stick planted  thereon,  which  threatened  every  instant  to 
topple  over,  and  which  she  steadied  with  frequent  nervous 
jerks  and  much  dripping  of  tallow,  looked  up  hastily  at 
Demis,  took  off  her  glasses,  rubbed  them  with  the  toe  of  a 
stocking,  replaced  them  on  her  short  thick  nose,  and — pur- 
sued her  work.  Poor  Demis  looked  bewildered ;  she  seemed 
to  have  struck  the  wrong  chord  all  around,  for  the  school- 
mistress turned  her  face  to  the  wall  and  wiped  away  fast 
dropping  tears.  Obeying  a  natural  impulse,  Demis  went  up 
and  put  her  arm  timidly  around 'her  neck,  "lam  sorry," 
she  began  softly. 

"  Wall,  then,  set  down !  do.  You  heave  round  so,"  returned 
her  mother,  shortly.  Demis  dropped  into  the  nearest  chair 
as  if  she  had  been  shot.  As  if  it  had  not  taken  thorough 
enough  effect,  her  mother  added  another  ball :  "  You're  so 
heedless ;  allers  hurtin'  somebody's  feelin's,  and  doin'  what  you 
hadn't  oughter  do.  I  wonder  ef  I  ever  shall  break  you  oft." 
If  Demis  was  quelled  before — now  she  looked  positively 
blue.  She  dared  not  speak. 

"  No,  no.  It  was  not  what  she  said,"  the  schoolmistress's 
voice  quivered  out,  in  eager  deprecation.  "  I  was  only  think- 
ing that  sister  Submit  used  to  paint  them  for  me,  and.now  I 
must  do  it  alone." 

"  Yis  !  poor  Summit  is  gone ;"  dolefully  sighed  my  aunt, 
"  but  we  shouldn't  wish  her  back  ag'in  in  this  troublous 
world  :  jest  think  how  she  suffered :  besides,  you've  others 
left."  She  knit  on  more  vigorously  for  giving  birth  to  this 
element  of  consolation. 

"  I  know  it,"  was  the  meek  answer.  "  I  do  not  repine, 
and  we  know  that  it  is  well  with  her.  But  her  place  in  the 


60  RUBINA. 

old  homestead  is  empty,  and  whenever  I  think  of  her  dresses 
hanging  just  as  she  left  them,  and  her  Bible  with  her  favorite 
passages  marked,  and  the  vacant  seat  at  the  table,  and  know 
that  she  is  gone  forever,  that  we  never,  never  shall — "  She 
gathered  up  her  work  hurriedly,  and  left  the  room. 

"  I  do  wish,  Demis,  that  you  could  learn  to  act  like  other 
folks  ;  seems  to  me  you're  old  enough,  ef  you're  ever  goin'  to 
be,"  commenced  Aunt  Rhoda,  coldly. 

I  stooped  to  Deborah.     "  Where  is  Mark  ?" 

"  Up-stairs  I  'spose."  She  whispered,  "  Don't  say  nothin' 
'bout  his  paintin'  bus'ness  afore  Mrs.  Martin.  She's  terrible 
sot  ag'inst  it,  you  see.  If  you  do  there'll  be  war  in  the 
wigwam.  Massy  to  me!  how  she  does  let  in  'pon  poor 
Demis !" 

"  Yis,"  Aunt  Rhoda  was  saying,  in  aloud,  hard  tone,  "  I've 
about  gin  up  makin'  any  thing  on  you.  I  do  my  best,  but  I 
can't  beat  nothin'  inter  you.  You're  gitten  too  old  to  whip 
all  the  time,  and  you  oughter  be  'shamed  to  be  spoke  to  so 
much.  It  seems  strange  to  me.  I  never,  was  so.  I'm  'sure 
I  don't  know  who  you  take  after,  and  for  my  part — "  I  lost 
the  rest  as  I  stole  softly  from  the  room. 

In  Mark's  room  I  found  Annah,  gravely  watching  him  as 
he  stooped  low  over  some — writing,  I  thought.  He  started  up 
hastily  and  drew  a  newspaper  over  it.  Then,  to  cover  his 
embarrassment,  he  lifted  Annah  to  his  knee  and  teased  her 
unmercifully,  until  Demis  coming  in  a  half-hour  later  plucked 
her  from  her  uneasy  elevation,  and  indignantly  remonstrated. 

"  Demie,  how  you  do  assume  control  over  my  actions ; 
but  I'll  say  nothing  more  now ;  you  look  as  if  you  had 
been  receiving  a  lecture." 

"  What  are  you  doing  up  here  ?"  she  returned,  evasively. 

When  questioned,  Mark  rarely  refused  a  true  answer.    He 


KUBINA.  61 

drew  out  the  hidden  drawing,  surveying  it  with  a  heavy  look 
of  dissatisfaction.  "  Tell  me  what  ails  it !  I  tried  to  sketch 
the  glories  of  the  new-born  day  :  Greybaul  lifting  its  proud 
dome  to  the  western  skies;  and  the  lustrous  clouds,  which 
rock  over,  but  dare  not  stoop  to  cradle  it.  It  baffles  me, 
after  all  my  efforts.  It  is  so  weak,  so  characterless,  beside 
the  grand  original.  I  should  make  a  better  copy  than  this, 
else  none  at  all."  He  swept  the  paper  impatiently  away. 
"The  truth  is,  I  want  masters,"  he  added,  dejectedly. 

"  Give  it  up,  Mark !"  pleaded  his  sister,  with  a  quick, 
anxious  glance  at  his  bright,  earnest  face.  "  You  may  as  well, 
first  as  last  ;  for  mother  says  it's  all  humbug.  You'll  never 
amount  to  any  thing  until  you  do." 

He  laughed  bitterly.  "  I  do  not  see  the  matter  with  her 
eyes." 

"  She  just  now  said  that  you  would  never  make  a  living," 
said  Demis ;  "  she  told  me  to  tell  you  her  words." 

"  Ah  !  the  dollars  and  cents  are  paramount  to  all  else.  A 
"living,"  he  echoed,  commencing  angrily  to  pace  the  room. 
"  Art  is  too  glorious  for  such  mean  calculations.  I  would 
not  debase  it  to  such  a  level  if  I  could."  He  returned  a 
defiant  stare  to  Demis's  mournful  gaze.  She  thought  him, 
his  chivalrous  assertion,  his  thoughtlessness  for  the  morrow's 
wants — sure  to  come — mere  visionary  babbling.  He  re- 
sumed— "  And  it  cannot  be  bought  and  sold.  It  is  a  coy 
mistress,  hard  to  please,  rewarding  constant  exertion  with — 
at  the  best — very  uncertain  favors :  yet  the  mere  touch  of 
her  hand,  the  merest  smile  from  her  eyes,  how  delightful ! 
As  if — he  went  on  rapidly  — painting  God's  immortal  limn- 
ings  of  earth,  sea,  and  sky ;  reproducing,  though  in  the 
humblest  form,  shadows,  on  which  the  eye  may  linger  with 
pleasure  and  profit,  be  not  immeasurably  superior  to  the 


62  RUBINA. 

paltry  monotony  of  doling  out  snuff  and  tobacco  to  the 
meddlesome  old  maids  of  the  village,  even  if  one  starve  in 
the  former,  and  wax  vulgarly  fat  in  worldly  store  in  the  latter, 
employment.  What  is  your  opinion,  Madame  Rubina  ?" — 
he  faced  me  so  suddenly,  and  with  such  a  martial  air,  that  I 
laughed.  "  Speak  !"  he  peremptorily  ordered.  "  No  driv- 
elling, half-way  thoughts  either.  Shall  I  be  a  '  storekeeper' 
and  dutifully  go  into  partnership  with  Ira  Pierce,  as  my 
father  wishes  ?  a  Baptist  elder  (a  pretty  one  I  should  make) 
shouting  out  close-communion  doctrine  and  infant  damnation, 
together  with  a  thorough  cold  bath  as  the  price  of  admission 
to  the  fellowship  of  saints,  according  to  my  respected 
mother's  programme  ?  or  a  poor  devil  of  an  artist — minus 
every  earthly  possession,  save  the  shadowy  hope  of  one  day 
achieving  that  which  will  bring  them  all  to  my  feet — the 
alluring  prospect  of  Fame,  to  which  my  own  headstrong  in- 
clination incessantly  points  the  way  ?"  He  did  not  pause  for 
my  answer,  but  went  on  impetuously  :  "  Gods,  what  a  fool's 
business  this  life  is !  what  are  our  inclinations  given  us  for, 
if  we  must  never  use  them  ?  What  good  does  our  own  will 
do  us  if  we  are  forever  to  hammer  and  mould  it  to  fit  others' 
wills  ?  Why  isn't  my  thought  to  be  obeyed,  my  purpose 
to  be  consulted,  as  well  as  those  of  one  whom  by  a  chance  I 
call  my  father — mother  2" 

"  Our  inclinations  are  for  us  to  use.  If  I  were  you  I 
should  painty"  came  my  prompt  answer,  as  he  paused 
breathless. 

"  Good ;  here's  a  monitress  after  my  own  heart.  Faith, 
such  sensible  advice  should  be  scrupulously  followed."  His 
brow  relaxed  its  form ;  his  eye  beamed  on  me  a  kindlier  look 
than  it  had  ever  yet  worn. 

"  Because  it's  your  own  advice  to  yourself.    If  I  had  said, 


RUBINA.  63 

Mart,  you  are  an  ignorant  dreamer,  or  shallow  reasoner,  you 
would  have  thrust  me  in  anger  from  the  room."  I  had 
much  better  have  said  nothing  just  then ;  he  was  too  ex- 
cited to  reason  as  to  motives.  It  was  impossible  to  convince 
him  that  a  truthful,  if  friendly,  opinion  had  swayed  me.  He 
turned  his  back  to  me,  and  was  silent — but  not  for  long. 

"  Is  that  why  you  give  me  such  counsel  ?  because  it  suits 
with  mine  ?  Truly,  my  wrath  is  formidable." 

"  I  do  not  fear  it,  or  you,  or  any  one  living,"  I  retorted, 
nettled  at  his  injustice.  He  did  not  heed  me :  though  sunny- 
tempered  usually,  at  times  he  could  be  most  cruel;  his 
mother's  strong  temper  now  came  uppermost ;  his  laughing 
eye  gave  a  gleam — cold  as  ice,  rigid  as  stone. 

"  Away  with  such  an  opinion ;  away  with  your  puny 
yellow  face ;  what  are  you  to  me  ?  or  I  to  you  ?  Let  us 
each  work  out  our  own  salvation."  He  snapped  his  fingers 
in  my  face  most  insolently. 

Demis  interposed  in  season  to  prevent  a  quarrel.  "  Bah  ! 
you  are  too  enthusiastic  by  half.  Ruby  talks  just  so  about 
Fame,  and  all  that  rubbish ;  for  my  part  I  don't  believe  in  it. 
If  there  is  any  such  thing,  rest  assured  that  it  will  never 
come  to  the  Martin  family.  Come,  Ruby ;  quick,  quick ; 
or  we  shall  never  get  out  of  the  room  alive,"  she  cried, 
opening  the  door  hastily,  as  Mark  came  slowly  toward  her, 
his  eyes  like  flint,  and  his  face  pale  with  anger.  She  re- 
opened to  thrust  her  head  inside,  with  a  provoking  laugh,  and 
say,  "  Good-night,  dear !  don't  lose  your  senses  before  morn- 
ing, and  fancy  yourself  one  of  the  old  masters  ;  it  will  be  such 
a  hideous  disappointment  when  you  wake  to  the  reality." 

A  pang  of  sorrow  shot  through  me,  as  we  closed  the  latch 
on  him,  and  that  more  mighty  self,  his  earnest  dreams :  boru 
but  to  die,  is  written  on  the  best  of  them. 


64  RUBINA. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Miss  CHARITY  ruled  her  pupils  with  absolute  sway.  She 
taught  thoroughly.  In  the  crowded  school-room  sounded  a 
perpetual  hum  of  voices.  She  especially  affected  the  young ; 
exercising  over  them  an  almost  maternal  care.  In  one  corner 
was  spread  a  few  blankets,  with  pillows,  for  the  use  of  the 
juveniles  when  too  tired  or  sleepy  to  remain  quiet.  They 
were  promptly  transferred  to  this  couch,  at  the  first  symp- 
toms of  restlessness;  and  there  always  was  a  row  of  heads 
on  the  pillows — limbs  diverging  therefrom,  necessitating  a 
frequent  application  of  Miss  Warner's  method,  of  kicking 
them  gently  into  order.  Around  them  ranged  the  noisy 
classes :  "  bounding  the  States,"  or  repeating,  in  powerful 
sing-song  concert,  that  immortal  stumbling-block  to  young 
minds — "  the  multiplication  table  ;"  keeping  perfect  time  to 
the  rising  and  falling  of  Miss  Charity's  willow  wand,  which 
not  unfrequently  swerved  from  its  legitimate  direction,  to 
course  slyly  toward  some  dodging  delinquent  from  duty. 
Her  mode  of  instruction  was  peculiarly  unique ;  consisting 
mainly  of  useful  lessons  from  a  book  of  her  own  arranging, 
though  "  Colborne"  and  good  old  "  Peter  Parley"  were  also 
her  stanch  allies.  The  road  to  learning  is  not  essentially 
an  easy  one  tiP  travel.  Still  less  delightful  the  unthankful 
task  of  turning  back  from  the  hard-won  heights,  to  cheer  on 
the  laggard  ;  to  infuse  life  into  the  inane — the  almost  hope- 
less dolt.  Miss  Charity  was  an  able  general.  She  pro- 
claimed war  against  sloth.  She  opposed  a  pale,  firm  resist- 
ance to  the  lowly  wayside  flowers,  blossoming  here  and 
there  over  the  stony  path.  She  tolerated  no  turning  aside 


RUBINA.  65 

from  the  plain  dnty  of  the  school-room.  This  was — in  her 
expressive  phrase — "  storing  your  minds  with  useful  knowl- 
edge." Accordingly,  the  rosy-cheeked  apples,  which  little 
Bessie  Cole  brought  in  her  blue  gingham  pocket,  thinking 
to  munch  slyly  while  conning  her  lesson,  were,  after  one 
tantalizing  bite,  promptly  singled  out  by  the  preceptress's 
keen  eye,  and  transferred  to  the  interior  of  the  red  desk. 
Up  would  fly  the  cover,  a  moment  later,  to  admit  a  round 
handful  of  chestnuts,  the  abstraction  of  Eleil  Pierce's  pocket, 
while  she  looked  with  dismay  at  the  pile  of  dismantled 
shells  already  littering  the  clean,  white  floor. 

Oh  !  the  treasures  that  inexorable  cover  revealed  to  peep- 
ing eyes,  when  momently  uplifted  !  Jew's-harps  lying,  twang- 
less,  beside  peaceable  fish-hooks,  destined  never  to  be  baited ; 
huge  balls,  compiled  from  strips  of  rubber  over-shoes,  and 
yarn  from  ravelled  stockings ;  bunches  of  stout  twine,  which 
often  returned  to  their  former  masters  in  a  shape  not  wholly 
agreeable ;  drops  of  reddish  spruce-gum,  from  the  tiny 
mouth-piece,  which  Demis  had  to  stand  and  deliver,  to  the 
unmanageable  one  belonging  to  stout  Robert  Jones  ;  popped 
corn ;  bits  of  slate-pencils ;  smooth,  white  pebbles  ;  frag- 
ments of  chalk ;  gay-ringed  allies,  given  up  with  pathetic 
sobs.  It  was  rather  mysterious,  what  became  of  the  fruit 
and  nuts.  Day  after  day,  month  after  month,  the  uneatable 
articles  remained  under  cover,  with  constantly  increasing 
additions,  while  their  ripe,  juicy  neighbors  disappeared  from 
the  fold  in  the  ratio  of  the  fresh  arrivals. 

Miss  Warner's  crowning  glory  was  the  annual  examina- 
tion, when — the  parents  of  her  charges  being  present — she 
displayed  to  their  astonished  vision  such  an  orderly  array 
of  jackets  and  pinafores  as  seldom  dawned  on  Northfield ; 
when,  prompt  to  an  intelligent  nod  or  wink,  up  rose,  noise- 


66  RUBINA. 

lessly,  the  appropriate  class,  volubly  reciting  their  lesson. 
Admiring  whispers  greeted  "  The  History  of  the  Bible," 
successfully  recited ;  closing  with  a  "  Hymn,"  repeated  in 
concert,  and  the  "  Ten  Commandments."  Then,  "  The  Sea- 
sons," in  like  manner ;  "  The  Senses,"  and  "  Punctuation." 
What  trembling  lips  commenced  the  long  list  of  "  Abbrevia- 
tions ?" — learned  with  many  flutterings  of  heart — lest,  after 
all  our  anxious  labor,  the  memory  hold  insecure  tenure  of 
the  property  committed  to  its  care,  and  that  woful  happen- 
ing "to  miss"  occur.  Each  countenance  involuntarily 
brightened  when  success  safely  bridged  this  doubt,  and  the 
murmuring  plaudits  of  the  spectators  swept  away  all  mis- 
givings for  the  grand,  poetical  close.  Poor  Phebe's  mishap 
with  the  blackberries  was  pathetically  related  by  Demis : 
to  my  lot  fell  the  soothing  answer.  Another  propounded 
"  The  Golden  Rule."  One  luckless  wight — after  a  bewilder- 
ing obeisance — with  outstretched  hand  and  frightened  eyes, 
was  safely  through  ten  verses  of  "  Who  made  the  Stars  ?" 
when  his  star  of  memory  suddenly  set,  and  confusion  over- 
whelmed the  young  orator.  The  most  notorious  truant  in 
town  dutifully  recited,  "Early  to  School  without  Delay;" 
and  little  Johnny  Tucker  glibly  brought  up  the  rear  with — 
"  See  me — I  am  a  little  boy,  who  goes  to  infant  school ; 
and  though  I  am  but  four  years  old,  I'll  prove  I  am  no  fool." 
I  heartily  hope  that  he  is  proving  it  now,  out  in  the  world's 
school  of  manhood,  unless  the  great  seal  of  silence  has  been 
pressed  on  his  lips,  closing  forever  his  earthly  tuition.  Then, 
the  presents  were  speedily  distributed  ;  the  aforesaid  "house- 
wives" to.  the  girls,  the  butterflies  and  birds  to  the  boys. 
The  silver  medal,  with  the  blue  ribbon,  which  throughout 
the  year  had  paid  nightly  pilgrimages  to  each  pupil's  home — 
the  reward  for  approved  conduct  during  the  day,  was  now 


RUBINA.  67 

suspended  around  the  neck  of  Avis  Pierce,  a  gift  for  good 
behavior.  She  was  reserved  and  melancholy  in  tempera- 
ment, so  she  bore  her  honors,  without  betraying  a  single 
flutter  of  pride.  Indeed,  she  looked  as  if  she  would  unhesi- 
tatingly barter  them — together  with  her  naturally  fine 
talents — for  a  meagre  portion  of  the  other's  gay  assurance.  * 
I  have  known  her  to  combat  with  her  overpowering  bashful- 
ness  until  her  eyes  glowed  with  a  fierce  light,  wholly  un- 
natural. She  hated  herself — and  you  for  noticing  it.  At 
times,  she  seemed  to  loathe  everything  human,  and,  finally, 
grinding  her  teeth,  she  would  mutter :  "  If  I  could  only  get 
away  from  it,  and  I  will  some  day.  I'll  live  alone."  Then, 
the  reaction,  with  tears  silently  falling  for  hours.  When 
questioned  she  answered  coldly.  Nothing  but  real  interest 
— pressed  anxiously — would  move  the  stream  of  sluggish 
confidence ;  then,  with  averted  head,  she  would  mutter,  as 
if  wholly  ashamed  of  the  weakness  which  led  her  to  confide, 
and  of  the  paltry  nature  of  the  confession  :  "  I  am  so  miser- 
able ;  I  wish  I  was  dead."  Yet,  her  mind  was  of  the  finest 
order ;  she  easily  mastered  the  hardest  tasks,  far  outstripping 
her  brother  and  sister  in  all  mental  races.  To  outward,  dull 
perceptions,  no  ingredient  seemed  lacking  to  render  existence 
palatable.  What  was  the  power  which  so  cruelly  dwarfed 
the  social  faculties,  while  it  hurried  on  with  headlong  zeal 
the  intellectual  ?  It  was  not  selfishness  craving  satisfaction — 
vanity  beseeching  admiration.  A  ray  of  genuine  pleasure 
crossed,  her  wan  face  when  asked  to  bestow  a  favor — only 
to  be  chased  too  quickly  away  by  some  hidden,  chilling  sus- 
picion. It  was  not  the  absorbed,  student  thirst,  despairing  ' 
of  being  quenched  in  repletion,  which  so  distressed  her,  and 
rendered  life  a  burden  of  evil :  she  prized  not  her  easily  won 
honors.  Some  morbid  tendency  in  her  grand  intellect 


68  EUBINA. 

needed  to  be  firmly — speedily  uprooted,  that  utter  waste  be 
not  spread  over  it.  But  whose  the  loving,  tender,  cautious 
hand  to  do  it?  How  speak,  and  to  whom,  of  a  fear  so 
vague  ?  of  a  tendency  apparently  so  groundless  ? 

It  was  Miss  Warner's  custom  to  invite  one  of  the  older 
girls  to  pass  a  week  at  her  own  home  when  school  closed. 
I  was  not  especially  pleased  at  being  this  time  selected.  A 
week's  separation  from  Demis  and  Annah  seemed  endless. 
To  increase  this  disinclination,  Mark  solemnly  hinted  of  in- 
describable gnomes,  haunting  the  great  house,  making  hide- 
ous noises  at  dead  of  night,  and  suddenly  retreating  to 
secret  hiding  cells,  at  all  investigating  attempts :  of  horrid 
bats,  flapping  slimy  wings  on  the  walls  of  the  sleeping-room, 
even  profaning  the  old  carved  headboards. 

"  I  have  never  seen  them,  and  I  have  spent  more  than  one 
week  there,"  interrupted  Demis. 

"  We  may  as  well  bid  her  farewell,  with  weeping  hair  and 
disordered  eyes,"  he  pursued,  reflectively  :  "  I  have  serious 
doubts — a  presentiment,  as  Deb  would  say — about  this  visit. 
Strange,  the  old  maids  never  ask  boys  to  go — no  timidity 
to  scare  away  researches,  &c." 

"  Boys  are  a  very  valiant  race,  I  know,"  said  Derais,  with 
quiet  sarcasm.  "  I  am  no  hand  at  story-telling ." 

"  I  hope  not,  indeed,"  he  ejaculated,  seriously  ;  "  bear  in 
mind  their  awful  portion." 

"  But  I  will  recall  one  incident  for  Ruby's  edification," 
she  proceeded,  not  noticing  his  interruption.  Mark  com- 
menced whistling  as  she  related  the  story. 

"  You  have  set  out  your  brother  well  as  a  coward,  Demie, 
and  made  a  good  story  for  yourself  into  the  bargain,"  he 
soberly  began,  when  just  at  this  critical  juncture  Amanda 
burst  into  the  room. 


BUBINA.  69 

"  This  is  a  pretty  how  d'ye  do  ;"  she  said,  snappishly — 
"  Here  I've  spent  the  whole  of  this  blessed  morning,  slaving 
myself  to  death,  and  what  do  you  think  I've  got  to  show 
for  it  ?" 

"  Oh !  oceans  and  seas  of  sweet  cake,  frosted  and  unfrost- 
ed,  plain  and  mixed,  plums  and  no  plums,  and  so  forth,  and 
so  on>  ad  infinitum"  answered  Mark,  speedily  rallying  from 
the  effects  of  the  narrative. 

"  I  oughter  have  enough  to  be  decent,  and  did  have  this 
noon,  but  if  you'll  believe  me,  I  can't  find  hide  nor  hair  of 
but  jest  two  kinds,  and  one  of  them  is  gingerbread.  I  baked 
five,  as  time  as  my  name  is  'Mandy  Jane  Martin,"  she  angrily 
spouted. 

"  Pray  add,  which  you  are  hoping  to  exchange  for  'Man- 
dy Jane  Pierce,"  laughed  Mark. 

"  You're  poking  fun  at  me ;  you  always  do  if  I  say  a  word." 

"  Not  for  worlds,  my  lovely  sister.  I  was  simply  stating 
a  self-evident  truth.  Now,  if  you  will  relax  that  frown  a 
trifle — it's  angle  is  too  acute  for  your  style  of  beauty — oh ! 
don't  go, — I'll  tell  you  about  your  cookery.  I  suspect  it's 
having  two  appreciative  listeners,  as  the  minister  says,  on 
Sugar-loaf  hill.  I  saw  Natty  go  off  with  suspiciously  full 
pockets,  and  Dwight  shortly  after  followed." 

"  I  never  !"  she  retorted.  "I  declare  'taint  possible  to 
hide  any  thing  in  this  house,  so's  they  can't  find  it.  I  put 
that  cake  in  the  big  tin  milk-pail,  and  set  it  under  the  north- 
room  bed,  and  smoothed  the  valance  down  ag'in.  I  knew 
they'd  hunt,  'cause  they  see  me  a  picking  over  raisins ;  but 
it  beats  the  Dutch  how  they  find  every  thing." 

"  You  should  be  thankful  that  they  left  any"  subjoined 
the  consoling  brother. 

"  I  wish  they  hadn't,  for  then  I  could  have  excused  it  to 


70  RUBINA. 

the  girls ;  now,  they  won't  believe  I  had  any  more,  and 
they'll  go  away,  and  call  me  stingy.  /  know  'em  of  old. 
It's  too  late  to  make  any  more.  I  expect  'em  every  min- 
nit."  She  banged  the  door,  and  went  off  muttering. 

Demis  laughed  indulgently.  Mark  carelessly  thrust  his  . 
hands  in  his  pockets,  whistling  Yankee  Doodle.  Uncle  Joe, 
who  was  smoking  out  of  the  window,  slowly  drew  in  his 
head,  closed  the  sash,  knocked  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  and 
while  his  dark  eyes  beamed  with  fun,  whispered  to  me  slyly 
"  It's  jest  as  I  used  to  do.  Strange  now,  how  they  all  take 
arter  me  in  mischief!" 

Deborah  was  suspected  of  aiding  and  abetting  these  dep- 
redations ;  she  could  deny  them  nothing :  she  covered  their 
delinquencies  with  a  p%ll  of  excuses,  never  lifted  save  by 
their  severe  mother,  for  the  bestowal  of  merited  reproof  or 
chastisement.  Deborah  called  them  "  babies  yet,"  incapa- 
ble of  knowing  better.  Why  is  it  that  the  youngest  nurs- 
lings in  the  family  flock,  are,  in  our  eyes,  never  grown  up  ? 
Even  if  gray  hairs  streak  the  dark  glossy  locks,  and  shy  wrin- 
kles loiter  curiously  round  the  once  smooth  brow,  still,  our 
memory,  fondly  dating  backward,  transmutes  them  to  our 
visions  as  "  mere  young  things  ;"  their  caprices  to  be  pardoned, 
their  whims  indulged.  In  reality,  these  were  no  delicate 
scions  of  the  parental  tree  ;  they  needed  no  hothouse  cher- 
ishing. Wholesome  restraint,  when  away  from  their  moth- 
er's eye,  was  shaken  off,  like  a  threadbare  garment.  No 
room  was  sacred  from  their  reckless  rummaging,  except  one 
the  "  parlor  bedroom,"  in  which  lingered  traditions  of  ghosts 
and  corpses,  there  "  laid  out,"  which  they  dared  not  brave 
even  by  daylight,  and  in  which  repugnance  even  the  older 
ones  shared. 

Natty  led  these  searches  for  plunder,  sharing  the  proceeds 


KUBINA.  71 

with  his  soberer  brother.  He  purloined  Mark's  sketches,  to 
present  to  some  favorite  playmate  ;  or  to  paste,  as  a  figure- 
head, on  a  kite.  He  tumbled  his  sister's  drawers,  in  search 
of  a  knot  of  ribbon,  and  boxes  for  angle-worms.  He  ab- 
stracted Amanda's  love-letters,  thereby  producing  great 
mental  fluttering,  and  innumerable  bribes  of  lumps  of  sugar 
to  restore  the  precious  papers.  He  invaded  my  scanty 
possessions.  He  dressed  himself  in  Deborah's  ample,  blue 
checked  robes, — filling  out  the  loose  proportions  with  bol- 
sters and  pillows, — at  pleasure.  Once,  he  even  donned  his 
mother's  best  cap,  bombazine  apron,  and  spectacles,  and  ap- 
peared to  her  horrified  gaze,  in  the  dairy.  He  sometimes 
wrought  his  courage  up  to  the  pitch  of  personating  ghostly 
inhabitants,  by  the  disguising  aid  of  sheets  and  a  floury  face ; 
and  paid  nocturnal  visits,  only  to  be  quickly  scared  away  by 
a  view  of  his  own  apparition  in  the  mirror.  Innumerable 
the  pranks  with  which  he  electrified  the  house ;  his  adven- 
turous spirit  seemed  ever  on  the  alert  to  discover  the  germ 
of  some  new,  promising  frolic.  How  we  loved  and  caressed 
him  !  How  his  merry  spirit  brought  sunshine  to  chase  away 
shadows,  disposed  to  linger.  Dear  little  Nathaniel !  You 
tormented  me  sorely  at  times ;  many  an  alien  pang  you 
plunged,  keen  and  glittering,  in  my  side.  Yet  it  never  lin- 
gered long ;  no  malice  corroded  it ;  no  genuine  unkindness 
turned  its  sharp  edge  rusty.  It  was  only  the  glitter  of  fun's 
bright  weapon  ;  the  unconquerable  spirit  of  mischiefs  tran- 
sient sting. 


72  RUBINA. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MISB  CHARITY  was  not  sent  for  from  home  that  night.  At 
the  breakfast-table  she  descried  "  the  grays  "  leisurely  trot- 
ting down  the  long  hill,  sloping  before  and  beyond  the  farm- 
house, only  to  ascend  in  a  steeper  elevation.  Over  the  sum- 
mit of  this  second  hill,  arises  the  neat,  white  homestead  of 
Farmer  Pierce.  Miss  Charity  finished  hastily,  and  started 
up  :  "  There's  Brother  Jesse  ;  he  never  likes  to  wait."  She 
darted  up-stairs  with  the  agility  of  fifteen  years.  I  prepared 
to  follow,  in  more  leisurely  fashion. 

"  Bless  me,"  said  Demis,  "  you  don't  look  much  as  if  you 
was  going  a  pleasuring,  my  child," — she  still  assumed  the 
maternal  prerogative.  Deborah  here  took  me  aside. 

"  Now  don't  look  so  down  in  the  mouth  about  it.  They 
mean  well  by  you,  and  think  it  an  honor;  they'll  feel  dred- 
ful  curus  ef  you  come  any  high  strikes  on  'em."  I  inter- 
rupted her  by  an  indignant  exclamation,  but  she  raised  her 
hand  authoritatively.  "  Mabbe  'twill  be  a  leetle  lonesome  at 
the  fust  start ;  they're  a  strange  set  of  'em ;  but  a  week's 
soon  over.  '  Time  and  Tide  wait  for  no  man ;'  that's  true  as 
gospil  preachin',  Ruby.  It  used  to  be  set  for  my  copy,  as 
long  ago's  I  went  to  school  to  old  David  Butterfield,  and  it 
struck  me  so,  I  ain't  never  forgot  it.  Now,  go  and  put  on 
your  roas'-meats,  for  he's  hitched  his  bosses,  and's  comin'  in. 
He  sets  his  life  by  them  critturs,1'  she  added  aside  to  Aunt 
Rhoda,  as  his  heavy  tramp  resounded  on  the  piazza. 

"  Uncle  Jesse  entered  shivering,  and  greeted  us  with  his 
own  heartiness  of  manner.  He  advanced,  and  spread  his 


RUBINA.  73 

great  brown  palms  before  the  hot  kitchen  stove.  "Wall, 
this  ere's  putty  tough  weather  for  spring,  Square,"  said  he. 
"  Yis,  we  may  look  out  for  any  kind  in  March ;  she's  a 
proper  skittish  month,"  responded  Uncle  Joel,  "  she  come  in 
like  a  lamb,  and  she'll  go  out  like  a  lion,  most  liiely.  I 
never  knew  that  are  to  fail." 

"  'A  roarin'  lion,'  "  added  Mr.  Warner,  with  a  humorous 
twinkle  in  his  keen  gray  eye,  "  '  seekin'  whatsomever  it  may 
devour,'  which,  in  my  'pinion,  means  hands  and  noses ;  them's 
what  suffers  most  in  this  keen  wind.  I  tell  you  it  cuts  like 
a  razor."  He  clapped  his  broad  hands  to  his  glowing 
cheeks  to  obliterate  the  stinging  remembrance.  "  How's 
your  health,  Mrs.  Martin,  now-a-days  ?  poorly,  as  usual,  I 
suppose  ?"  he  added,  with  a  chuckle.  Uncle  Jesse  Warner 
always  grew  facetious  with  favorable  surroundings. 

"  Yis,  I  hold  out  consid'rable  well.  Ef  I  didn't,  I  don't 
know  what  would  become  of  us  all :  most  likely  we'd  all  go 
to  the  poor-house  afore  the  year's  out,"  she  answered,  dart- 
ing a  severe  glance  at  her  good-natured  spouse. 

"  Poh  !  Rhody,  we  ha'int  come  to  that  pass  yit,  I  calculate. 
Law !  she  thinks  " — turning .  to  his  guest — "  that  nobody 
don't  do  nothin'  in  this  house  but  jest  herself.  She's  a  dredful 
smart  woman  though,  I  admit,"  he  added,  as  she  tied  on  her 
long,  woollen  apron,  and  departed  to  see  after  her  cheeses. 
"  She  gin'rally  keeps  up  fust-rate  sperrits,  but  she's  a  leetle 
down  in  the  mouth  lately — you  see,  we  did'nt  sell  off  our 
cheeses  last  fall ;  don't  bring  but  four  cent  a  pound  in  mar- 
ket, and  so  I  held  on  to  'em ;  wall,  it  sort  o'  frets  her,  I  see. 
Then,  too,  'bout  Mark—" 

"  Why,  what  about  him  ?"  asked  his  listener,  anxiously. 
"  Wall,  I  don't  want  it  to  go  no  further ;  but  seein's  it's 
you,  I  don't  care  ef  I  tell,"  he  answered,  reaching  down  his 


74  EUBINA. 

pipe,  and  pressing  its  cavity  full  of  tobacco.  "  Have  a 
smoke  ?" — he  offered  it  to  Mr.  Warner. 

"No,"  said  the  latter;  "  I  smoked  jest  afore  I  left  hum. 
I  do  that  allers,  to  settle  my  breakfast." 

"Wall,"  resumed  Uncle  Joel,  slowly  puffing  great  blue 
clouds  out  into  the  room,  and  placidly  eyeing  me  as  I  stood, 
hooded  and  shawled,  by  the  window :  "  you  see  she's  sot 
her  heart  on  our  oldest  boy's  bein'  a  gospil  preacher  ever 
since  he  was — oh,  so  high !  I've  heerd  her  lot  on  it  to  beat 
all.  She  took  a  notion  that  he  was  called  of  the  Spirit,  and, 
like  Samuel  of  old,  born  a  child  of  God.  I  could'nt  never 
see  'she  was  a  bit  different  from  the  rest,  that  come  along 
arter  him ;  maybe  he  was  fuller  of  his  jokes,  but  that  ain't 
no  great  recommend  for  a  preacher.  Wall,  this  is  neither 
here  nor  there  ;  the  gist  of  the  business  is  this,  Jesse.  The  lad 
is  crazy  to  be  a  painter :  he's  got  some  idee  'bout  bein'  a  big 
man  ;  makin'  us  all  proud  on  him ;  and  I  don't  know  what." 

"  Do  tell  now,"  said  Mr.  Warner,  aghast.  "  Law  !  I  guess 
the  lad  is  a  leetle  out  of  his  head ;  I  don't  think  painters 
amount  to  much.  There's  Seth  Gibbs  now,  down  to  '  Thun- 
der,' he's  one  on  'em,  and  he  don't  know  much  more'n 
enough  to  go  in  when  it  rains." 

"  Oh,"  hastily  interrupted  Uncle  Joel,  "  I  don't  mean  that 
kind  o'  paintin' ;  any  body  can  daub  over  fences  and  housen, 
I  s'poSe " 

I  broke  in  grandly,  with  a  proud  toss  of  my  head  :  "  He 
means  to  be  an  artist;  to  paint  beautiful  landscapes,  and 
portraits ;  and  I  quite  approve  the  plan." 

"You  do,  eh!"  said  Mr.  Warner,  laughing.  "Another 
rebellious  sperrit  in  your  house,  Square.  Sister  Roby  says 
you'll  hev  your  hands  full  one  of  these  days,  a  tryin'  to  bring 
'em  all  under." 


KUBINA.  75 

"  Wall !"  said  Uncle  Joel,  simply,  "  I  dun  know  as  I  want 
to ;  they're  well  'nough ;  though  Rhody  does  say  sometimes 
that 't  seems  to  her  as  ef  Satan's  broke  loose." 

"  'Spose  we  hear  our  ambitious  little  woman's  plans  for 
herself"  said  Mr.  Jesse,  quietly.  I  laughed. 

"  Oh,  I  mean  to  be  a  teacher  like  your  sister,  but  I  shall 
not  always  teach,  of  course." 

"  Of  course  not ;"  he  echoed.  "  How  can  we  expect  it  ? 
Children  now-a-days  begin  life  when  we  leave  off.  Eh,  Mr. 
Martin?" 

"  Yis,  Jesse  ;  you  see  she's  as  bad  as  Mark.  They've  all 
got  great  idees ;  and  the  Lord  only  knows  where  they'll 
bring  up.  Amanda's  the  only  one  who  sides  with  her  mother. 
As  for  me  I'd  jest  as  lief  the  lad  would  settle  down,  near 
hum,  in  some  likely  trade.  I  don't  want  none  on  'em  to 
slave  as  I've  done  all  my  days ;  and  I  ain't  no  more  fore- 
handed than  I  was  thirty  years  ago." 

"  But  you  keep  out  o'  debt,  and  that's  somethin' ;  that's 
'bout  all  I  manage  to  do,"  returned  Mr.  Jesse,  cheerily. 

"I  dun  know  'bout  that,  neighbor.  B'tween  you  and  me 
and  the  whippin'  post,  I'm  'fraid  I  shan't  make  a  raise  of  the 
int'rest  money  this  year ;  and  that  are  mor'gage  looks  like  a 
mountain.  Sometimes  I  think  I  may  as  well  give  up  beat 
fust  as  last,  for  I  shall  never  be  able  to  lift  it  off,  high  and 
dry,  in  all  this  world." 

"  Pshaw,"  said  Mr.  Jesse,  "  your  boys'll  help  you." 

"  Wall,  it'll  come  'pon  me  so  by  spells,  though  I  don't 
never  mean  to  let  these  things  move  me,  as  Rhody  does.  It 
puts  her  all  out  o'  kilter.  I  tell  her  'taint  no  sort  o'  use  bor- 
rowin'  trouble ;  it  comes  fast  'nough  of  itself;  but  law !  ef 
'taint  one  thing  she's  worryin'  'bout,  it's  'tother.  I  tell  her 
it's  a  long  lane  that  never  turns." 


/6  RUBINA. 

"  That's  true  as  the  Book  of  Numbers,  Square — what  on 
airth  can  keep  Sister  Charity  so  ?  I  must  git  hum  to  do  the 
chores." 

"  How  are  the  girls  ?"  interrupted  his  sister  entering,  fully 
equipped,  with  boxes  and  bundles. 

"  Wall,  'bout  so,  so ;  Sister  Crete's  ruther  down  at  the 
heel ;  had  one  of  her  poor  spells  last  night " 

He  broke  off  to  tuck  the  worn  buffalo  robes  carefully 
around  us.  "  It  seems  kinder  curus,  Ruby,  that  'twas  mo 
you  fust  got  'quainted  with  here.  Lordy  !  how  sorry  I  did 
feel  for  them  two  leetle  gals  that  night,  comin'  'mong  entire 
strangers.  Wall,  wall,  that's  all  gone  by.  Now  look  there," 
he  continued,  pointing  to  the  great  Warner  mansion,  rising 
bold  and  bare  of  enveloping  trees,  out  of  the  keen,  frosty 
landscape.  We  turned  to  the  right,  and  we  lost  the  view. 
"  You'll  see  'em  all  on  the  look-out,  when  we  git  nigh  'nough. 
That's  their  way.  They  look  me  out  o'  sight  when  I  start 
off  anywhere  ;  ef  'taint  mor'n  to  go  down  to  the  village  arter 
a  pound  of  resins,  or  an  ounce  of  salarostus,  for  sister  Siny 
to  cook  with,  and  when  I  git  back,  there  they  be  still." 

Miss  Charity  smiled.  "  You  know  the  reason,  I  hope, 
brother,"  she  said,  with  a  fond  upward  glance  at  his  homely, 
heartsome  visage,  seamed  and  scarred,  by  the  destructive 
forces  of  wind,  toil,  and  care,  which  latter  plant  the  deepest 
furrows.  She  proceeded  softly,  "  You  know  you  are  all  the 
one  we've  got ;  so  it  behooves  us  to  make  the  most  of  you, 
and  guard  carefully  our  human  treasure,  lest,  inadvertently 
some  covetous  wretch  see,  long  for,  and,  in  a  twinkling, 
whisk  it  away.  Now,  if  we  had  more  of  the  same  staunch 
article,  you  might  never  have  occasion  to  complain  of  receiv- 
ing too  much  attention  from  a  pack  of  spinster  sisters." 

He  looked  bewildered.     "  She's  actilly  a  laughin'  at  me, 


KUBINA.  77 

Ruby — me,  the  lord  of  the  manor,  as  that  Inglish  feller  down 
'  t'the  factories '  says  so  often  'bout  his  old  stun  mill.  I'll 
have  to  take  her  in  hand,  won't  t  ?"  he  continued  thought- 
fully, the  smile  fading  from  his  purple  lips.  "  It's  a  pack 
that  melts  through  into  single  Injun  file  fast  enough.  There's 
many  a  true  word  spoken  in  jeest,  sister  Charity,  and  I  don't 
b'lieve  in  handlin'  such  things  very  often  ;  but  I  must  say  I'm 
glad  there  ain't  no  more  on  us,  to  go,  one  by  one,  down  to 
the  old  fam'ly  buryin'  ground.  There's  enough  now,  to  keep 
our  hearts  a  breakin'  slowly  for  more  years  to  come  than  I 
like  to  look  forrard  to.  Verily,  it's  a  world  of  vanity,  and 
vexation  of  sperrit ;  we  only  git  red  of  one  burden,  afore  an- 
other bundle,  jeest  as  heavy,  is  piled  onto  our  shoulders.  I 
tell  you  we  can't  shirk  sorrer." 

"  True  !"  answered  his  sister,  sadly.  "In  Adam  all  die  ; 
how  then  can  our  household  band  hope  to  escape  it  ?  Con- 
sumption eats  at  our  vitals,  ajnd  poisons  our  life-springs.  I 
suppose  there  is  no  cure  for  it ;  but  we  know  for  surety  that 
'  in  Christ  all  shall  be  made  alive,'  and  our  scattered  family 
reunite  on  the  farther  shore  of  Jordan.  There's  where  we 
must  found  our  anchor,  brother  Jesse ;  the  cold  stream  itself 
would  wash  it,  and  us  with  it,  speedily  away ;  perhaps  its 
rushing  torrent  bear  us  onward  to  dreadful  regions."  She 
drew  a  little,  hopeless  sigh,  which  said  plainly :  "  It  is  a 
hard,  bitter,  forced  resignation,  springing  from  necessity,  not 
born  of  content.  Under  its  stern  decree,  present  separation 
we  must  submit  to.  Let  us  therefore  summon  what  remains 
to  us  of  Christian  fortitude." 

"  Wall,  I  know  it,  but  somehow  it  don't  seem  to  go  to  the 
spot,"  resumed  her  brother,  who  was  seldom  long  silent. 
"  I'm  nothin'  but  a  selfish  creetur,  arter  all's  said  and  done.  I 
laid  awake  the  live-long  night  a  hearin'  sister  Crete's  dry, 


78  EUBINA. 

hackin'  cough ;  she  was  dreadful  distressed  for  breath,  by 
spells,  and  made  a  sound  in  breathin'  like  raspin'  files. 
Wall,  I  couldn't  git  it  out  o'  my  head ;  it  went  through 
and  through,  like  one  o'  Satan's  devices  we  read  about,  and 
oughterto  forgit,  but  caraV,  somehow,  for  the  life  of  us;  and 
when  I  got  up  this  mornin',  and  see  how  'twas  a  wear- 
in'  on  her  out,  I  was  clean  discouraged  ;  I  felt  as  though 
we's  the  most  afflicted  family  in  all  Northfield  town.  I  tell 
you  I  swallowed  a  purty  big  lamp  o'  rebellion  afore  I  did 
my  breakfast.  Arterwards  I  found  that  other  folks  hev  their 
trials  and  tribulations,  too,  even  ef  they  don't  come  in  the 
same  shape  as  our'n." 

"  What  changed  your  mind,  brother  Jesse  ?"  asked  his 
sister,  a  little  curiously. 

"  Oh,  a  triflin'  sarcumstance ;  nothin'  to  speak  of,"  he  re- 
joined, evasively.  "  But  I  discover,  the  longer  I  live,  that 
truer  words  wa'n't  never  spoken  than  these :  '  Ev'ry  heart 
knoweth  its  own  bitterness.'  What  makes  one  forlorn  soul 
weak  and  sore,  another  wouldn't  mind  a  straw,  and  vicey 
versey.  I  tell  you,  we  are  measured  and  fitted  for  trouble, 
jest  as  Silas  Peckham,  down  to  the  holler,  measures  me  for 
a  new  go-to-meetin'  suit,  once  ev'ry  five  year;  and  what 
don't  b'long  to  us  by  right,  is  clipped  off,  ev'ry  inch  on't, 
jest  as  he  trims  his  superfine  broadcloth  ;  he  don't  give  me 
any  more  than  my  statur  needs,  you  know.  Wall !  my 
opinion  is  the  Lord  won't  nuther,"  he  concluded,  earnestly. 

"  Yes,"  said  his  sister,  with  solemn  slowness,  "  but  death 
comes  to  all  hearts  alike,  as  the  most  terrible,  most  dread- 
ed of  evils.  Poverty,  obscurity,  ignominy,  crime  even, 
are  counted  as  naught  before  this  merciless  scourge.  There 
is  a  hope  that  we  may  rise  above  and  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  others,  after  a  time ;  this  pursuer  there  is  no  escaping. 


RUBINA.  79 

On  mountain-tops,  in  the  green  valley,  in  city  and  coun- 
try, beneath  the  waves  of  ocean,  he  seeks  and  finds  his 
prey." 

"  Wall,"  broke  in  Uncle  Jesse,  warmly,  "  I  don  know  'bout 
some  o'  that  doctrine.  I've  seen  some  folks,  now,"  he  pur- 
sued, reflectively,  "  proper  good  neighbors,  church  members 
too,  and  all  that,  who  I.  don't  'spect  would  come  under  that 
harness.  They  don't  seem  to  think  losin'  their  connection  the 
greatest  evil ;  bear  up  under  it  -amazin'  easy  and  calm  like ; 
mabbe  it's  the  resurrection  hope  that  spurs  up  their  sperrits 
so  soon  ;  afore  they're  cold  in  the  ground,  as  you  may  say." 

"  At  any  rate,  we  are  not  to  be  their  judges,  brother  Jesse," 
returned  Miss  Charity,  half  rebukingly.  "  Here  we  are  at  the 
turn,"  she  added,  after  a  pause.  "  Now,  if  you  do  not  start 
up  the  grays,  the  girls  will  get  tired  of  watching  for  their 
bonnie  brother." 

The  brother  complied.  The  grays  pricked  up  their  ears, 
mended  their  pace,  and,  rounding  the  corner,  cantered  into 
the  great  yard,  in  flourishing  style.  I  stole  a  peep  at  the 
windows.  I  counted  four  heads  peering  curiously  out,  ere 
they  darted  into  an  obscure  background.  Only  one  ven- 
tured to  the  threshold.  She  greeted  Miss  Charity  most  af- 
fectionately, at  the  same  time  offering  to  take  her  bundles. 

"•Come,  little  Miss  Brook,"  said  my  kind  host,  gayly,  as  I 
sat  staring  stupidly  at  them,  "  you're  too  venturesome  a  little 
woman  to  want  to  set  here  all  day,  Pm  sure,  so  give  a  jump  ; 
there  you  be ;  feel  a  little  cramped,  don't  you,  a  settin'  so 
long."  I  laughed  at  his  good-natured  raillery.  "  Here,  sis- 
ter Siny,"  he  sang  out  to  his  sister,,  who  was  looking  after 
her  sister's  boxes,  "  I  s'pose  you've  seen  this  ere  young  wo- 
man at  meetin'  lots  o'  times,  so  there's  no  need  o'  makin'  you 
acquainted.  To  tell  the  truth,"  he  muttered  to  himself  as 


80  RUBESTA. 

he  unhitched  the  horses,  "I  never  was  no  hand  at  them 
sort  o'  things.  Siny,  now,  's  a  master-hand  at  it." 

Miss  Sinai  gave  a  cheerful  little  chuckle.  "  I  see,  Ruby, 
that  we  must  manage  without  an  introduction." 

She  looked  about  thirty :  plump,  fresh,  wholesome,  red- 
cheeked,  with  mild  brown  eyes,  and  hair  to  match — rather 
scanty,  it  is  true — done  up  in  a  twist  behind,  crowned  with  a 
high-topped  shell  comb  ;  dimples  played  fitful  games  around 
her  mouth,  and  ripe  red  lips  offered  such  attractions  that  I 
involuntarily  put  up  mine  for  a  kiss.  She  was  busy,  and  did 
not  see  the  action  ;  her  brother  did,  and  laughed  heartily. 
She  turned  quickly ;  I  renewed  the  pantomime,  and,  stoop- 
ing, she  drew  me  close  to  her  bosom,  bestowing  not  one, 
but  a  dozen  kisses." 

"  That's  allers  the  way.  They  allers  want  a  kiss  from  sister 
Siny,  every  chick  and  child  in  '  the  Centre.'  I  kinder  hanker 
for  one  myself,"  said  Uncle  Jesse,  fondly. 

"  Do  you  indeed  ?  Stoop  then  1"  she  gayly  cried,  and  as 
he  complied,  they  gravely  exchanged  a  salute.  She  turned 
to  me  merrily.  "  Don't  tell  any  one,  Ruby,  what  a  pair  of 
old  fools  we  are.  You  see  how  childish  he  is  getting,  and  as 
he  is  all  the  one  I  have  to  spoil,  I  suppose  I  must  humor  his 
whims  once  in  a  while." 

More  good-natured  retorts  between  the  two ;  then  -she 
took  my  cold  hand  in  her  warm,  soft  palm,  and  led  me  into 
the  sitting-room — from  which,  as  we  entered,  we  heard  feet 
'  scudding  hastily.  Only  "  the  schoolmarm"  was  sitting  quietly 
by  the  fire;  alternately  removing  her  wrappings  of  sacks 
and  shawls,  and  wanning  her  hands  by  the  genialt  flame. 

"Now,"  said  Miss  Sinai,  carrying  off  my  bonnet  and 
shawl,  "  my  dear  Ruby,  you  are-  my  visitor  remember,  and  I 
want  you  to  make  yourself  at  home.  Go  wherever  you  like  ; 


KT7BINA.  81 

\ve  don't  keep  locked  doors  here,  and  you  will  find  the  latch- 
string  out  before  every  one." 

How  blithe  and  merry  she  was.  I  scouted  the  idea  of  her 
being  an  "  old  maid."  No !  that  she  was  not,  and  never 
could  be.  How  pleasantly  her  voice  echoed  through  the 
corners  of  the  great  room  :  it  was  low  and  sweet ;  free  from 
the  nasal  accent  and  strong  pronunciation  of  her  brother's 
speech,  or  the  prim  decisiveness  of  Miss  Charity's.  She  was 
too  buxom  to  be  mistaken  for  a  sylph.  Dark  "  merrimac, 
warranted  to  wash,"  cannot  be  considered  as  proper  robes 
for  a  romantic  heroine.  Romantic !  she  would  have  scorn- 
fully repelled  the  insinuation,  as  something  of  which  to  be 
ashamed.  Daily,  toilful  care  is  a  poor  nourisher  of  senti- 
ment ;  the  weak  plant  sickens  and  dies  in  such  rugged  soil. 
Luxurious  ease  is  its  best  foster-mother.  So,  though  Miss 
Sinai  read  "  Thaddeus  of  Warsaw"  by  stealth,  in  her  room, 
at  night,  and  wandered  through  the  fascinating  pages  of 
"  Alonzo  and  Melissa,"  and  conned — half  awe-struck — the 
direr  horrors  of  "  The  Children  of  the  Abbey,"  she  came 
out  in  the  morning  as  fresh  and  blithesome  as  before  ;  as 
ready  to  put  her  plump  shoulders  to  the  wheel  of  work,  and 
send  it  rolling  merrily  around  the  old  domain.  It  was  merely 
a  peep  at  the  fabulous  world  of  the  novelist,  vouchsafed  to 
the  weary  work-day  spirit,  to  lighten  a  little  the  dull  pressure 
of  the  material.  She  always  closed  this  indulgence  with  an 
elastic  shake  of  the  head,  and  the  ejaculation,  "  Stuff  and 
nonsense,  every  bit." 

I  liked  to  watch  her  as  she  flitted  from  room  to  room,  a  sub- 
stantial, self-denying,  handsome  household  fairy  ;  her  sleeves 
rolled  to  her  shoulders,  displaying  such  %arms,  round,  white, 
and  plump,  with  soft  curves  at  the  elbows,  tapering  slowly 
to  the  small,  dimpled  wrists,  and  losing  their  identity  in  the 
4* 


82  EUBINA. 

perfect  hands — marvels  of  symmetry,  small  and  fair.  No 
mawkish  rings  tarnished  their  soft  outlines.  Miss  Sinai  re- 
pudiated jewelry.  Her  delicate  ears  had  never  undergone 
the  torturing  puncture  with  darning-needle  and  black  silk — 
perseveringly  wielded  by  a  fanatical  grandmother.  Indeed, 
the  wearer  of  long,  third-rate  pendents  she  denounced  as 
"  factory-fied,"  and  treated  to  a  species  of  unspoken,  good- 
humored  disdain.  Neither  did  a  flaming  circlet  of  red, 
green,  or  blue  stones,  in  a  rim  of  shining  metal,  proclaim  its 
individuality  from  its  appropriate  throne :  she  laughed  down 
"  breast-pins."  Neat  little  silk-fringed  cravats,  tied  grace- 
fully around  her  slender  throat,  were  her  sole  adornment. 
We^grew  at  once  confidential.  She  had  the  rare  faculty 
of  removing  from  a  guest's  mind  the  uneasy  strangeness  of  a 
first  visit.  Directly,  she  had  invested  me  with  a  charming 
sense  of  home-finding.  I  seemed  always  to  have  known  her : 
already  I  began  to  look  forward  with  regret  to  the  week's 
close.  She  attracted,  she  magnetized  me;  and  I  followed 
her  as  she  flow,  in  and  out,  about  her  work. 

"  Where  are  your  sisters  ?"  I  asked,  in  the  course  of  the 
morning.  She  was  stooping  over  the  fireplace,  preparing 
dinner ;  either  the  heat  or  my  abrupt  question  sent  a  vivid 
glow  to  her  face. 

"  Well,"  she  whispered,  after  a  pause,  "  you  see,  they  like 
company  to  come  as  well  as  I  do,  but  they  are  so  bashful  that 
it  takes  them  a  little  while  to  wear  it  off." 

"  That's  why  they  ran  away  as  you  opened  the  door  this 
morning?"  She  nodded.  "I  saw  them  at  the  windows. 
They  need  not  be  afraid  of  me,"  I  resumed — philosophically 
adding,  "  I'm  nothing  but  a  little  girl  yet,  Aunt  Rhoda  says." 

"  Oh,  they'll  be  sociable  enough  after  they  see  you  once ; 
all  but  sister  Crete ;  she  is  no  great  talker  at  any  time." 


RUBINA.  83 

"  She  is  the  sick  one  ?     I  have  heard  of  her." 

"  Yes  !"  she  answered,  sadly.  "  She  has  got  the  consump- 
tion. We  shall  all  have  it  some  day." 

"  You  won't,"  I  pronounced  decisively.  "  You  haven't 
got  narrow  shoulders ;  Deborah  says  that  is  a  symptom." 

She  shook  her  head  dissentingly.  "  That's  all  s'tuff,  Ruby. 
It's  an  hereditary  disease.  I  have  never  heard  of  but  one  cure 
for  it,  and  that  is  equal  to  none  ;  nothing  would  induce  one 
of  us  to  try  it." 

"  Docs  Miss  Charity  know  of  it  ?  She  said  there  was  no 
cure  for  consumption." 

•  "  Yes,  she  knows,  but  probably  did  not  count  this  a  rem- 
edy, though  I  have  heard  marvellous  stories  about  its  success  ; 
but,  of  course,  they  are  all  moonshine :  I  don't  believe  them." 

"  What  is  it  ?"  I  asked,  curiously.  She  looked  at  me  a 
little  doubtfully,  before  answering. 

"  It's  to  open  the  grave,  after  a  certain  time  has  elapsed — 
I  forget  how  long, — to  take  the  heart  from  the  body,  and 
burn  it." 

"  Oh  !  Miss  Sinai,"  I  exclaimed,  in  horror. 

"  Hush  !"  she  whispered,  "  don't  speak  so  loud.  Charity 
may  hear  us.  Their  theory  is,  you  know,  that  some  material 
tie,  or  a  sort  of  invisible  cord,  binds  the  hearts  of  a  family 
together,  which  can  only  be  severed  in  this  manner.  They 
say  the  one  who  dies,  draws  the  next  after  her,  to  the  grave, 
by  this  means ;  and  by  rendering  her  powerless,  the  others 
live  the  longer." 

"  Why,  it's  worse  than  to  be  a  cannibal,"  I  exclaimed, 
vehemently^  "  do  you  think  there  is  any  thing  in  it  ?" 

"  No,  indeed ;  it's  too  heathenish  a  code.  I  had  rather 
die  to-morrow  than  know  of  its  being  practised." 

Dinner  was  now  served.     After  several  summonses,  the  shy 


84  RUBINA. 

sisters  entered  the  room,  in  a  body.  Miss  Lucretia,  who  was 
emaciated,  wasted  to  the  consistency  of  a  shadow,  coughed 
constantly.  Miss  Roby,  a  tall,  gaunt  woman,  who  reminded 
me  involuntarily  of  the  "gnomes,"  at  which  Mark  hinted, 
she  looked  so  surly  ;  her  harsh,  iron-gray  hair,  frizzled,  un- 
combed, and  unconfined  around  her  hard,  wrinkled  face, 
lending  it  additional-  sternness.  She  wore  a  dark  calico 
gown,  of  an  immense  flowered  pattern  ;  a  round  cape  of  the 
same,  trimmed  with  deep,  full  ruffles,  was  pinned  around  her 
shoulders ;  the  gored  skirt,  destitute  of  gathers,  save  a  hand's- 
breadth  behind,  clung  curveless  to  her  long,  lank  figure,  and, 
terminating  several  inches  above  her  leather  shoes,  left  bare 
a  pair  of  ankles  not  remarkable  for  beauty,  cither  of  shape  or 
size.  Miss  Zilpha,  who  was  likewise  old,  gray,  and  thin. 
She  wore  spectacles,  to  conceal  her  bleared  eyes  and  their  in- 
flamed lids.  She  wore  a  string  of  huge  gold  beads  round 
her  red,  pimply  throat,  for  the  supposed  benefit — cure  was 
out  of  the  question — of  a  scrofulous  swelling  under  her  chin. 
She  helped  herself  profusely  to  snuff,  after  seating  herself  at 
the  table,  despite  a  prohibiting  sign  from  Miss  Sinai,  who 
played  the  part  of  hostess.  Then  she  drew  from  her  pocket 
a  small  square  of  blue  calico,  and  smoothed  it  over  her  knees 
for  a  napkin. 

"  I  like  snuff,  and  I  ain't  noways  'shamed  to  let  big  bugs 
know  it,"  she  muttered,  crossly. 

Miss  Sinai  looked  dismayed  at  Miss  Charity ;  they  both 
sighed,  and  said  nothing.  Uncle  Jesse  did  not  say  grace; 
they  all  thought  it  ;  an  interval  of  profound  silence  followed, 
at  which  I  marvelled  inwardly.  They  called  it  "  consider- 
ing." It  was  a  custom  borrowed  from  the  "  Shakers,"  of 
which  strange  fraternity  their  mother  had  been  a  member. 
Escaping,  while  yet  young,  from  their  tyrannical  control,  and 


EUBINA.  85 

marrying  a  sober  farmer,  she  became,  in  form,  one  of  the 
"  world's  people ;"  but  a  few  old  habits  she  still  retained, 
training  her  children  to  their  observance. 

A  more  diverse  family  group  I  have  never  since  seen  ;  in 
face,  form,  speech,  dress,  and  manner,  none  akin.  And,  as 
in  outward  traits,  their  thoughts  and  opinions  partook  no 
less  strongly  of  this  robe  of  individuality.  They  could  never 
be  reasoned  into  accepting  each  other's  views  of  a  subject 
under  family  discussion,  though  their  strong  family  affection 
one  to  another,  usually  yielded  a  knotty  point,  accompanied 
with  a  knowing  nod,  which  said  clearly,  "  I  could  say  a  deal 
more  if  I  chose  ;  but  if  it  gives  you  any  comfort  to  have  your 
own  way,  take  it !  /  don't  care."  Not  but  that  the  debate 
sometimes  grew  hot;  especially  between  Miss  Roby  and 
Miss  Zilpha.  Not  unfrequently  a  pungent  sarcasm  peppered 
the  opposite  ranks,  and  produced  temporary  confusion  and 
dismay  among  the  ruffled  cap-borders,  causing  the  defeated 
logical  belligerents  to  beat  a  hasty  retreat  from  the  field. 
These  sparring  tilts  occurred  only  at  their  reunion  at  meals  ; 
at  all  other  times  they  were  marvellously  agreed ;  or  per- 
haps they  were  too  busy  to  waste  time  in  empty  argu- 
menj^ 

This  dinner  was  my  initiation  into  their  ways;  though 
Miss  Sinai,  by  gay  prattle,  and  constant  attention  to  their 
wants,  and  beseeching  glances  to  Miss  Charity — who  amply 
seconded  her  efforts — strove  to  ward  off  all  topics  which 
might  induce  controversy.  Her  eye  sought  Uncle  Jesse's 
constantly ;  but  his  blunt,  kindly  orbs  were  unconscious  of 
any  feminine  meaning.  He  unwittingly  opened  the  Lyceum, 
while  distributing  to  each  a  generous  plateful  of  "  parsnip 
stew,"  served  on  a  mammoth  round  pewter  platter,  and 
emitting  an  appetizing  fragrance.  "  Wall,  gals,  I  was  down 


86  EUBINA. 

to  old  Deacon  Nortrop's,  this  forenoon.  He's  going  to  kill 
a  beef  critter  to-morrow,"  he  serenely  observed. 

"  I  s'pose  you  sp.oke  for  a  quarter,  as  usual,  Jesse ;  but  we 
don't  want  any  on't.  I'll  be  bound  it's  as  tough  as  old 
Golding,  and  that  was  mor'n  anybody  could  make  way 
with,"  put  in  Miss  Roby,  in  a  gruff,  dictatorial  tone. 

She  was  the  possessor  of  the  gruffest  voice  ever  bestowed 
on  woman.  Nature  is  a  capricious  dame.  She  fashioned 
Sinai  in  a  freak  of  melting  tenderness ;  over  the  white  firm 
flesh  she  breathed  life's  rose-color.  She  whispered  the  vocal 
organs  to  life,  and  they  woke  grateful  responses  of  soft,  bell-like 
melody.  Proud  grace  swayed  each  careless  movement.  To 
her  sister  had  been  awarded  a  more  grudging  legacy  :  she 
was  moulded  like  a  grenadier.  The  frisky  dame  looked  at 
her  offspring  with  disenchanted  eyes ;  some  utterance  she 
must  have  certainly :  she  was  not  to  be  a  pet  and  plaything : 
she  was  formed  for  action.  A  rumbling  sub-base  fell  to  her 
share. 

And  here  was  Nature's  whim,  transversed :  Sinai,  the  anx 
ious  helper ;  Roby — the  week  /  saw  her — an  idle  grumbler. 

"  How  do  you  know  we  don't  want  any  ?"  jerked  out 
Miss  Crete — alternating  each  word  with  a  spasmodic  cough. 

"/  know,  and  that's  enough;"  chimed  in  Miss  Zilpha, 
looking  hard  at  me  through  her  green  glasses.  She  was 
conceited  enough  to  imagine  herself  the  family  oracle.  "  If 
we  ever  git  out  of  any  thing  in  the  house,  come  to  me.  Pll 
tell  you,  brother  Jesse,"  she  finished,  with  a  complacent 
smirk  of  her  thin,  faded  lips. 

"  You  need't  take  the  trouble,"  he  answered,  dryly.  "  You 
have  more  pressin'  matters  to  see  to ;  openin'  and  shuttin' 
that  are  snuff-box,  that's  got  George  the  Third's  humly  old 
pictur  painted  on  the  led." 


RUBINA.  87 

"  He's  a  real  pritty  man,"  she  affirmed  stoutly,  "  and  why 
shouldn't  I  have  his  pictur  on't  ?" 

"  'Cause  you  oughter  be  a  better  Dimocrat  than  all  that 
comes  to,"  he  said  firmly.  "  All  the  Warners,  ever  sence  the 
battle  of  Bunker  Hill — where  Grand'ther  Seth  fell  by  a 
British  bullet — hev  hated  the  very  thought  of  a  redcut 
worse'n  pizon." 

"  Law  !  you  git  things  all  mixed  up  endways,"  she  retorted 
with  scorn.  "  He  wa'n't  shot  at  Bunker  Hill,  and  a  Whig 
isn't  a  Britisher." 

He  went  on,  not  heeding  the  interruption.  "  And  I  re- 
member when  our  father  died,  he  called  me  to  his  bedside 
and  charged  me  over  and  over  again  never  to  be  a  turnout ; 
'  Stick  to  the1  good  old  Dimocracy,  Jesse ;'  them's  his  very 
words ;  I  haint  forgot  'em,  and  never  will.  I've  allers  bin  a 
Dimocrat,  and  I  mean  to  live  and  die  one." 

"Do  !  for  pity's  sake,"  again  shot  out  Miss  Zilpha.  Un- 
heeding her,  he  still  pursued  :  "  I  remember  'fore  father  died, 
he  sent  for  old  Cap'n  Nortrop  to  come  up'n  see  him  ;  wull, 
he  come  post-haste.  I  wasn't  in  the  room  :  I  heerd  him  say 
to  the  Cap'n,  '  I  want  you  to  be  one  o'  my  pall-bearers,  and 
take  charge  o'  my  funeral :  you're  the  only  one  o'  my  old 
cronies  as  haint  gone  over  to  the  Whigs.  I  mean  to  die  as 
I've  lived — a  good  Baptist  and  Dimocrat,  and  I  hope  you'll 
do  the  same,  Cap'n.'  Wall,  I  wan't  nothin'  but  a  shaver,  then, 
but  I  thought  Cap'n  Nortrop  looked  kinder  conscience  smit, 
when  they  shook  hands  on't — and  he  did  begin  to  say  some- 
thin'  'bout  who  he  voted  for  last  town-meetin'  day,  but  father 
didn't  seem  to  care  to  hear  it.  'Look  here,  Cap'n,'  says  he, 
'  I  don't  keer  who  you  vote  for,  ef  you're  only  a  Dimocrat' — " 

"Wall,  I've  heerd  all  that  rigmarole  afore,"  interposed 
Miss  Zilpha,  quietly. 


88  KUBINA. 

"  Oh,"  coughed  Crete,  "  it's  merely  a  change  of  subject"— 
cough — "  feels  kinder  cheap,  maybe" — cough — "  'bout  buyin' 
the  Deacon's  beef" — cough. 

"Sister  Siny's  cook  this  week,  I  believe,  girls;"  re- 
sponded their  brother,  good-naturedly ;  "  I'll  leave  the  ques- 
tion to  her  now." 

"  Well,  brother  Jesse,  I  guess  we  don't  need  any,"  she  said, 
a  little  hesitatingly. 

"  No  more  do  I ;  and  I  wa'n't  a  goin'  to  git  any,"  he  said, 
very  gravely. 

"  You're  the  most  desateful  creetur  that  ever  drew  the 
breath  of  life  then,  Jesse  Warner.  What  did  you  say  you 
spoke  for  a  quarter  for?"  chimed  in  again  Miss  Zilpha's 
sharp  voice. 

"  I  didn't !  'Tvvas  Roby  insinuated  it :  she's  a  proper  sus- 
picious critter ;  prides  herself  on  bein'  beforehand  tellin' 
what  a  body  means,  and  it  gin'rally  turns  out  like  this  :  she 
don't  hit  nowheres  within  gunshot  of  the  mark." 

"  What's  the  mark,  then,  in  this  ere  case  ?"  slowly  put  in 
the  thunder  tones ;  "  I,  for  one,  will  be  dredful  obleeged  to  ye 
for  postin'  on  us  up." 

"  Wall,  now,"  he  resumed — spreading  his  yellow  bandanna 
on  his  knees,  and  deliberately  carving  a  semi-circle  of  mince 
pie,  "  I  was  on  the  p'int  of  sayin'  somethin'  proper  agreeable 
to  you  wimmin  folks,  ef  you'd  only  let  me  go  on  as  I  b'gin. 
You  see,  arter  I  took  a  look  at  the  Deacon's  stock — likely 
red  heifer  that  of  his'n,  too — I  jeest  went  in  to  chat  a  minute 
with  Aunt  Patty " 

"  I'll  warrent  ye,"  broke  in  Miss  Roby,  sarcastically. 

"  Well,  brother  Jesse,  how  did  you  find  them  ?"  quietly 
interposed  Miss  Charity,  in  time  to  prevent  another  wordy 
tournament. 


RUBEtfA.  89 

"  Smart  as  usual.  Mis'  Nortrop  was  a  flyin'  round  like  a 
hen  with  her  head  cut  off;  beats  all  how  she  does  hold  out; 
bears  her  age  wonderful,  I  think.  Dolly  was  tyin'  a  com- 
forter. She's  all  hoarsed  up  with  quinsy ;  she  says  she  hes 
to  hev  jest  sech  a  spell  ev'ry  winter  season.  Sara  Ann  was 
rockin',  as  usual.  They  sent  an  invite  for  as  many  on  ye  as 
could,  to  come  to  a  tea-drinkin'  there  this  arternoon.  Atint 
Patty  said  'twas  to  meet  the  new  minister :  he'd  come — 
though  I  haint  had  a  squint  at  him  yit,  for  that  matter." 

"  What'd  you  tell  her  ?"  asked  feminine  curiosity. 

"  Why,  I  told  her  you'd  do  as  you'd  a  mind  to,  I  s'posed, 
but  I'd  do  the  arrand,"  he  answered  unconcernedly.  He  rose. 

"  You  might  have  told  them,  while  you's  about  it,  / 
shouldn't  come,"  growled  Roby,  decidedly.  "When  you 
catch  me  there  ag'in,  you'll  catch  a  weasel  asleep." 

"  I  wouldn't  be  hired  to  go  !"  coughed  Miss  Crete,  "  to  see 
all  the  ministers  in  creation." 

"  No !  you're  not  able  to  go,"  said  her  brother,  affection- 
ately, "  but  some  o'  the  rest  might,  I  think ;  for  the  looks  on't  ef 
nothin'  more :  though  Dolly  said  she  misdoubted  ef  any  on 
ye  would." 

"  Law !  did  she  ?"  said  Miss  Zilpha.  "  Then  Pll  go,  jest  to 
spite  her.  I  'spose  she  hopes  we  won't  come :  haint  got 
vittals  'nough  maybe  for  a  large  party.  Sister  Charity,  you'll 
go  too,  won't  you  ?" 

"  That  I  will,"  she  gayly  answered,  "  after  the  work  is  out 
of  the  way.  I  must  not  leave  Sinai  to  do  it  all." 

Not  being  allowed  to  share  in  this  work,  I  stood  quietly 
by  and  watched  their  manner  of  doing  it.  Deborah  often 
declared  that  "  they  were  an  odd  set ;"  I  thought  so  too,  as 
Miss  Roby — filling  a  pail  with  warm  water,  and  producing 
from  a  closet  a  bowl  of  soft  soap  and  a  scrubbing-cloth— 


90  EUBINA. 

slowly  let  herself  down  on  the  floor  to  wash  it.  She  carefully 
polished  one  board  its  entire  length.  Her  kneeling  pil- 
grimage finished,  she  with  difficulty  rose,  handed  the  cloth 
to  her  sister  Zilpha — waiting  for  it — who  also  assumed  the 
devotional  posture,  and  in  like  manner  finished  another 
board.  So  they  alternately  labored,  while  Sinai  and  Charity 
washed,  wiped,  and  put  away  the  blue-edged  dishes.  These 
latter  talked  in  an  under-tone  quite  undistinguishable.  Miss 
Lucretia  loitered  a  while  by  the  fire,  then  went  off,  coughing 
violently,  to  take  her  after-dinner  nap. 

"  Why  don't  you  go  visiting  ?"  I  ventured  to  inquire  of 
Miss  Roby,  as  she  rose  from  polishing  the  fifth  board.  She 
shyly  averted  her  head  ere  she  answered  : 

"  'Cause,  I  don't  maybe  like,  over'n  above  board,  some 
folks'  sweet-cake — made  out  of  mutton  taller,  or  ham -grease. 
/  can't  go  fried  meat-fat,  or  pot-drippings,  even  if  ''tis 
cleansed.  I  ain't  over  fond  nuther  of  eatin'  up  other  folks's 
leavins  of  plum  sauce ;  and  mor'n  all  that,  I  don't  want  to 
freeze  to  death :  do  you  blame  me  ?"  she  demanded  gruffly, 
suddenly  turning  to  face  me. 

"Do  they  do  all  that  at  Deacon  Northrop's?"  I  asked, 
curiously. 

She  nodded  her  head  mysteriously.  "  I  shouldn't  won- 
der ;  and  that  ain't  half.  The  fact  is,  they're  tight  as  the 
bark  to  a  tree.  It  beats  all,"  she  said,  reflectively  ;  "  they're 
well-to-do  in  the  world,  and  ain't  obleeged  to  scrimp  so ;  but 
as  true  as  I'm  a  livin'  woman,  I've  known  Aunt  Patty  Nor- 
trop  stop  little  boys,  goin'  to  the  store  for  a  stick  of  candy, 
and  persuade  'em  to  buy  a  stem  of  currants  instead,  and 
she'd  pocket  their  copper  as  cool  as  could  be — you  know, 
Ruby,  you  can  make  children  do  most  any  thing,  if  you  only 
set  out.  I've  known  of  her  keepin'  their  hired  men  on  salt 


RUBINA.  .  91 

pork  the  blessed  summer  long — till  they  got  mad  and  quit ; 
and  Sara  Ann's  jest  as  bad  as  the  old  folks.  She  used  to 
carry  '  love  apples'  to  school  and  sell  'em  to  the  other  gals — 
done  it  oceans  of  times — for  a  cent  apiece.  You  can  find 
any  quantity  of  'em  growing  wild  in  the  Nortrop  woods." 

"  What's  bred  in  the  bone,  <fec.,  you  know,  sister,"  put  in 
Miss  Zilpha,  handing  her  the  soap'  and  cloth. 

"  You  are  a  little  too  hard  on  them,  girls,"  said  Miss 
Sinai,  gently;  "We  should  have  charity,  you  know  the 
Bible  says." 

"  Wall,  we've  got  her,  Fm  sure,"  laughed  Miss  Roby,  face- 
tiously. "  I  don't  see  what  more  you  want." 

"  And,"  pursued  Miss  Sinai,  with  a  deprecating  glance, 
"  we  don't  make  ourselves ;  we  are  not  born  alike :  they  can- 
not help  it." 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  now !"  she  grimly  retorted,  "  I  know 
they  can  help  it ;  and  I  know,  too,  that  the  Bible  says  that 
'Faith  without  works  is  of  no  avail.'" 

"  Spcakin'  of  charity,"  said  Miss  Zilpha,  laughing,  and 
pausing  in  her  labor  to  dispose  leisurely  of  a  huge  pinch  of 
snuff,  "  puts  me  in  mind  of  the  time  old  Mis'  Pettibone  went 
round  gitten  a  new  meetin'  cloak  for  Elder  Clark.  'Twant 
no  enviable  job,  but  she  had  tol'rable  good  success  among 
the  members,  till  she  got  to  the  Deacon's,  about  the  last 
place.  Some  give  a  quarter,  and  some  fifty  cents ;  the  store- 
keeper's wife  give  in  the  trimmins,  and  sister  Roby  and  I  was 
goin'  to  make  it  all  off  for  our  part — wall,  she  told  Mis'  Nor- 
trop  her  arrand.  Dolly  never  opened  her  head ;  but  Aunt 
Patty  took  the  paper,  and  read  the  names  on't,  all  over,  and 
handed  it  back  without  sayin'  a  word.  Mis'  Pettibone  told 
me  'bout  it  herself — so  if  it's  a  lie  you  have  it  as  cheap  as  I — 
said  she  never  did  feel  so  streaked  afore  in  all  her  life; 


y2  RUBINA. 

'specially  when  Aunt  Patty  put  on  a  mournful  look,  and  said, 
kinder  solemn,  '  Charity  b'gins  to  hum.'  " 

"  What  did  Mrs.  Pettibone  say  to  that  ?"  I  asked,  greatly 
interested. 

"  She  said  '  Yis,  and  gin'rally  ends  there ;'  and  she  got  up 
and  took  her  boots  off  quick.  She  laughed  as  though  she'd 
split,  when  she  told  me,  but  she  said  she  felt  dreadful  put 
out  in  the  time  on't." 

"  Wall,  at  any  rate,  they  might  treat  folks  civil,"  said  Miss 
Roby.  "  I  remember  visitin'  there  once  ;  'twas  when  Sara 
Ann  was  a  leetle  girl — she's  jest  about  your  age,  Siny,  though 
she  don't  call  herself  but  twenty-five;  church  member,  too. 
I  guess  she  skips  that  part  in  her  Bible  that  treats  'bout 
Annias  and  Sophiry.  I'd  sent  word  we  was  a  comin',  the 
day  before,  me  and  Delia — 'twas  when  she's  alive — and  as 
Dolly  Nortrop  was  jest  our  age,  and  a  great  case  to  carry  on, 
we  lotted  on  a  real  sociable  set  down.  Wall,  when  we  got 
there,  ef  you'll  b'lieve  me,  there  wan't  a  sign  of  no  fire  in 
the  fireplace,  and  the  room  was  as  cold  as  a  barn.  'Fore  we 
got  our  thin  gs  off,  Dolly  come  a  runnin'  in  with  a  shovelful 
of  coals,  and  Mis'  Nortrop  she  brought  a  stick  or  two  of 
green  wood  and  put  on  top.  '  Law!'  says  she,  'we  thought 
maybe  you'd  give  up  comin';  it's  so  late  ('twan't  two  o'clock.) 
Dolly  let  the  fire  git  down ;  however,  the  room  ain't  got  cold 
none,  I  guess  (good  reason  why,  'twas  as  cold  as  cold  could 
be  afore),  and  it'll  soon  blaze  up  agin.'  Wall,  there  we  sot, 
the  whole  blessed  afternoon,  in  a  shiver,  a  waitin'  for  the  pesky 
fire  to  blaze  up,  and,  instid,  it  grew  colder  and  colder,  and 
the  room  got  as  blue  as  a  whetstun.  You  see,  the  wood  was 
hemlock  boughs,  and  so  full  o'  water  it  only  smoked  and 
steamed  round  the  edges :  it  didn't  make  a  mite  of  no  head- 
way towards  burnin',  and  'twouldn't  nuther  ef  we'd  sot  there 


RUBINA.  93 

till  doomsday.  I  didn't  care  none  for  myself,  for  I  felt  so 
full  of  Cain,  I  could  hardly  keep  a  straight  face  on  ;  but  poor 
Delia  felt  it,  I  tell  you :  she  whispered  to  me  once  that  she 
felt  all  over  goose  pimples  ;  and  the  smoke  set  her  coughin' 
terrible.  There  wan't  but  one  rockin'-chair  in  the  room,  and 
that  Delia  took  :  she  never  thought,  nor  I  nuther,  but  what 
it's  the  way  to  do.  I  see  Sara  Ann  a  standin'  round — oh ! 
quite  a  spell — and  lookin'  hard  at  us,  but  I  'sposed  'twas  be- 
cause she  hadn't  no  manners.  Byme-by  she  went  off,  and 
putty  soon  her  mother  come  in,  and  told  Delia  '  that  rockin'- 
chair  was  Sara  Ann's,  and  nobody  sot  in't  but  jest  herself;' 
and  so  sister  Delia  had  to  histe  out  of  it,  and  the  leetle  five- 
year-old  brat  took  it  as  brazen  as  could  be.  I  whispered  to 
sister  Delia  that  'twas  part  of  the  play.  You  needn't  look  so 
at  me,  Charity  ;  I  ain't  a  goin'  to  say  one  word  'bout  the 
supper.  Dolly  come  in  jest  afore  the  clock  struck  five,  with 
the  shovel,  sayin',  '  the  kitchen  fire'd  gone  out,  while  we's  a 
visitin' ;  it  kinder  slipped  her  mind,'  and  so  she  up  and 
carried  off  what  few  coals  was  still  fizzlin'  and  sputterin,' 
under  the  green  wood,  and  I  was  glad  on't,  for  I  opened  the 
winder  on  a  crack,  and  let  out  some  the  smoke.  After  sup- 
per, Aunt  Patty  said,  '  she  guessed  'twouldn't  be  worth  while 
to  make  another  fire  in  the  keepin'  room,  as  we  shouldn't 
stay  long  enough  to  pay  for  the  trouble,  and  she  felt  ruther 
oneasy  allers  to  go  off  to  bed  and  leave  a  great  roarin'  fire 
all  shet  up.'  Wall,  that  was  the  wust  on't ;  'cause  I'd  told 
brother  Jesse  not  to  come  for  us  'fore  seven  or  eight  o'clock, 
as  we  thought,  while  we's  about  it,  we  wouldn't  be  formal. 
He  didn't  come  till  nine,  and  I  declare  my  hands  got  so 
nurnb  'fore  that  time  struck,  I  couldn't  hold  my  knittin' 
needles ;  they  fairly  turned  purple.  I  rubbed  'em  kinder  sly 
under  my  apron  ;  then  I  made  an  arrand  out  to  the  kitchen, 


94  KUBINA. 

to  git  a  drink  of  water,  and  tried  to  warm  'em  a  trifle  by  the 
stove.  Wall,  would  you  b'lieve  it  ?  that  was  out  too.  I 
hope  Mis'  Nortrop  didn't  keep  awake  that  night,  for  fear  the 
house'd  catch  afire.  I'm  sure  she  might  a  slept  as  tranquil  as 
the  babe  unborn,  for  when  we  come  away,  there  wan't  a  sign 
of  no  fire  in  the  hull  house,  'cept  the  flame  of  one  leetle 
scraggly,  dipped,  taller  candle ;  and  the  wick  of  that  didn't 
look  strong  enough  to  stan'  alone,  kep'  loppin'  to  one  side, 
and  Aunt  Patty  had  to  give  it  a  poke  once  in  a  while  with 
the  pint  o'  her  scissors  to  make  it  know  its  place.  They  had 
an.ile  lamp  on  the  mantel-tree,  but  'twan't  lit.  Wall,  Rubiny, 
the  long  and  short  of  the  matter  is,  that  I  made  up  my  mind 
then  that  I  didn't  like  to  go  visitin'.  Poor  Delia  was  laid  up 
with  rheumatiz  the  hull  spring  after.  I  thought  then,  and  I 
do  now,  that  'twas  a  settin'  half  a  day  and  night  in  that  are 
cold  room  brought  it  on  :  she  run  down  all  that  summer 
and  we  buried  her  afore  snow  fell." 

Her  voice  sounded  a  little  tremulous  as  she  concluded. 
We  had  been  left  alone  at  the  close  of  this  recital.  Miss 
Sinai  had  disappeared  noiselessly.  Miss  Charity  softly  fol- 
lowed. Miss  Zilpha  peered  curiously  into  the  closet,  after 
their  departure,  at  the  neat  piles  of  dishes ;  dipped  one  skinny 
fore-finger  under  the  creamy  surface  of  a  pan  of  milk ;  tasted 
it,  and,  apparently  satisfied  of  its  sweetness,  helped  herself  to 
a  pinch  of  her  favorite  comfort,  and  took  herself  off.  It  was 
torturing  to  watch  her  walk  It  was  like  a  screw ;  hither 
and  thither  she  swayed — like  a  slender  forest  tree  driven  by 
the  wind.  I  felt  relieved  when  she  gained  the  entry  door, 
and  it  had  closed  upon  her  receding  figure.  As  for  Miss 
Roby,  it  was  like  the  hush  after  a  tempest,  the  lull  that  fol- 
lowed. Her  work  was  likewise  finished ;  the  kitchen  floor 
made  neat,  and  shining  like  glass.  She  turned,  and  shuffled 


RUBINA.  95 

heavily  away.  For  the  remainder  of  the  day  she  was  invisi- 
ble in  the  sitting-room,  being  domiciled  in  Miss  Crete's  com- 
fortable quarters  across  the  hall. 


CHAPTER  Vin. 

IN  less  than  an  hour  Miss  Charity  appeared,  carefully  at- 
tired in  her  best  company  frock — a  lustreless  black  silk — 
with  wrist  and  neck  decorations  of  narrow  lawn  ruffles ;  at 
the  junction  under  the  chin,  appropriately  finished  by  a  tiny 
knot  of  pale  purple  ribbon.  These  tasteful  bits  of  ribbon, 
and  her  velvet  head-band,  roused  the  scornful  ire  of  the  grim 
Puritan  dames  in  the  vicinity,  who  looked  upon  all  outward 
adorning,  in  one  past  the  giddy  period  of  youth,  and  also  a 
"  church  member,"  as  but  sinful  vanities  of  the  world,  and 
hardness  of  the  spiritual  life.  However,  as  her  sisters  liked 
them,  she  paid  no  heed  to  others'  frequently  expressed  disap- 
proval. She  looked  and  moved  a  lady,  though  a  rather  prim 
one.  Drawing  a  chair  to  the  fire,  she  quietly  seated  herself 
to  wait  for  her  sister. 

Miss  Zilpha's  mode  of  entering  a  room  was  altogether  pe- 
culiar. First,  the  door  noiselessly  turned  on  its  hinges — a 
treacherous  click  of  the  latch  alone  sounding  a  warning  of 
her  coming.  Then  a  sharp  nose  was  thrust  through  the  cre- 
vice, cautiously  followed  by  the  glittering  green  spectacles, 
taking  a  hasty  survey.  Then  the  long  angular  waist  was  in- 
serted, and  finally  the  whole  figure  wedged  itself  through  the 
narrow  space.  A  startled  look  rested  upon  her  face  at  attain- 
ing her  object  so  boldly.  Her  long,  lean  figure  was  arrayed 
in  faded  blue  camlet ;  the  scantiness  of  the  skirt  compensated 


96  EUBtNA. 

for  by  the  ample  fulness  of  the  sleeves.  On  one  arm  swung 
a  huge,  cinnamon-colored,  silk  work-bag,  with  her  knitting- 
needles  protruding  through  its  mouth.  A  century  ago  it  had 
figured  at  similar  gatherings,  depending  from  her  grandam's 
sturdy  muscles,  as  she  donned  her  huge  "caleche,"  and 
mounted  the  cream-colored  pacer,  old  Bess.  Miss  Zilpha 
was  proud  of  its  history,  and  cherished  it  as  a  priceless  heir- 
loom. 

"That  ere,"  she  said — pointing  to  it  with  her  withered 
finger,  "  could  tell  heaps  of  cur'ous  stories  eft  could  only 
speak.  I'd  give  a  crossed  sixpence  to  hear  some  on  'em, 
wouldn't  you  now,  sister  Charity  ?  'bout  when  the  church 
called  a  council,  to  turn  poor  old  Elder  Thatcher  away  ;  the 
Lord  only  knows  what  for:  grandmann  didn't,  though  she 
tried  hard  enough  to  find  out  the  real  reason:  the  deacons, 
for  once,  was  close-mouthed  enough.  Some  said  'twas  for 
his  carryings  on  with  Phila  Hurd,  settin'  up,  and  walkin'  out 
with  her  afore  his  first  wife  died,  and  you  know  mother  said 
he  married  her  jest  as  soon  as  she  did  breathe  her  last  fare- 
well— afore  she  was  cold  in  her  grave  as  you 'may  say — " 

"Come,  sister!"  interposed  Miss  Charity,  serenely,  "the 
horse  is  waiting  for  us ;  brother  Jesse  will  be  getting  im- 
patient." 

"  I  must  take  my  own  time,  sister.  I  can't  be  hurried," 
she  responded,  loftily. 

Perched  on  her  forefinger,  like  a  nondescript  bird  pluming 
itself  for  sudden  flight,  sat  her  muslin,  lace-bordered  cap. 
She  deposited  it  carefully  on  the  table,  shook  out  her  hem- 
stitched kerchief — which  smelled  strongly  of  dried  rose- 
leaves — and  enveloped  in  its  creases  the  antiquated  coiifure  i 
tying  the  four  corners  in  a  firm  "  weaver's  knot."  "  There," 
she  said,  complacently,  donning  shawl  and  bonnet,  "  I  guess 


RUBINA.  97 

that  won't  ontie  :  I  hate  a  '  granny's  knot'  above  ground,  it's 
always  a  slippin'  out.  Wall,  sister  Siny," — stepping  before 
her — "  you  hain't  said  whether  I'll  do  or  not.  1  thought, 
seein's  the  new  minister's  to  be  there,  I'd  put  on  my  best  bib 
and  tucker." 

Miss  Sinai  smiled.  "You  will  do  admirably,"  she  cried, 
gayly.  "  Be  sure  and  bring  Ruby  and  I  a  favorable  account 
of  the  new  minister,  to  pay  us  for  staying  at  home." 

"  Certain  !"  responded  Miss  Zilpha,  opening  the  pantry 
door,  at  which  both  of  her  sisters  laughed. 

"  My  spice  boxes  are  nearly  empty,"  called  Sinai  after  her. 

"Enough  here  for  me  to-day,"  she  innocently  answered, 
opening  the  little  oval  Shaker  boxes,  and  abstracting  sticks 
of  cinnamon,  pendules  of  cloves,  grains  of  allspice,  and  stems 
of  dried  caraway  :  these  she  placidly  dropped  into  the  work- 
bag's  capacious  hollow. 

"  It's  easy  to  see  why  Zilpha  likes  that  enormous  bag !"  re- 
marked Miss  Sinai,  mischievously.  "Sister  Charity  carries 
her  work  in  her  pocket,  but  then  it  don't  have  to  hold  spices 
too.  I  wonder  it  don't  kill  you,  sister!"  she  continued; 
"  you  are  always  eating  something." 

"  I  feel  a  sort  of  goneness,"  returned  her  sister,  "  most 
ways  afore  meal-times.  I  'spect  I've  got  the  heart-burn.  Old 
Doctor  Lovejoy  told  me  a  mite  of  caraway  seed  was  good  for 
that  are  complaint :  and  the  cap  sheaf  is  that  I  kinder  hanker 
for  something  to  gnaw  away  on."  After  a  pinch  of  snuff, 
she  declared  herself  "  all  in  a  flutter-budget  to  be  off." 

From  a  side-window  I  watched  them,  down  the  long  white 
road,  past  its  sweeping  curve,  and  out  of  sight ;  their  green 
veils  fluttering,  and  their  heads  occasionally  turning  to  note 
the  objects  they  passed  by. 

A  high  wind  sweeping  over  the  cold,  March  landscape ; 
5 


98  RUBINA. 

the  cheerless  contour  of  its  skeleton  trees ;  the  monotonous 
dearth  of  life  and  sound  without,  made  the  .large  cheerful 
sitting-room  within,  with  its  glowing,  crackling  fire,  and  Miss 
Sinai's  sweet  face,  the  very  embodiment  of  comfort.  "I 
wonder  what  we  had  better  do  ?  "  she  said  musingly,  as  I 
looked  vaguely  around.  "  What  do  you  like  best,  Ruby  ?" 

I  glanced  at  my  well-stuffed  carpet  bag  in  the  corner. 
"  Aunt  Rhoda  insisted  on  putting  up  my  work ;  she  said  I 
must  knit  to  the  heel.  I  hate  knitting  stents !  don't  you 
Miss  Sinai  ?"  I  cried  vehemently. 

She  laughed  at  my  rueful  glances.  "I  believe  I  used  to 
dislike  it ;  but  I  got  over  that  a  long  time  ago.  Suppose  you 
unlock  your  satchel  and  let  me  see  your  work !" 

I  obeyed  rather  reluctantly.  She  scanned  it  carefully,  and 
again  sent  forth  a  low,  musical  chuckle.  "  Sooth  to  say,  you 
are  no  great  knitter,  Ruby ;  that's  a  fact."  She  smoothed  it 
over  her  knee  with  one  plump,  dimpled  hand.  "  Why,  I 
don't  believe  you  narrow  at  all — and  the  seam  is  very  bro- 
ken— and — mercy  on  me !  do  see  the  dropped  stitches ;  they 
are  making  tracks  for  home  as  fast  as  ever  they  can." 

I  suppose  I  looked  guiltily  foolish  under  her  raillery,  for 
she  suddenly  stopped,  and  added,  "  I'll  tell  you  what  we  will 
do,  Ruby !  You  ravel  the  stocking — its  only  a  moment's 
work — and  I  will  knit  it  over  for  you." 

I  joyfully  complied.  She  mended  the  fire,  adding  seasoned 
twigs  to  the  huge  smouldering  back-log,  which  speedily  pro- 
voked darting  tongues  of  flame,  up  the  wide  chimney.  This 
done,  she  opened  the  old-fashioned  butternut  writing-desk, 
and  turned  over  its  meagre  hoard  of  books.  Selecting 
"  Food  for  Reflection"  for  her  own  perusal,  she  lingered 
thoughtfully  over  the  rest — so  long  that — my  imperfect  crea- 
tion being  returned  to  its  embryo  shape — I  tossed  the  white 


RUBIXA.  99 

ball  on  the  table,  and  returned  to  the  window.  The  wind 
was  lulling.  A  homeless  ray  of  sunshine  illumed,  for  an 
instant,  the  dark  edges  of  swift-sailing  clouds.  • 

"  What  are  you  looking  at  ?"  said  a  voice  presently,  behind 
me. 

"  Is  that  a  graveyard,  Miss  Sinai  ?"  I  pointed  to  a  group 
of  white  objects,  looking  like  marble  shafts. 

"  Yes,  Ruby  !     It  is  our  family  burial-place." 

"  Oh !  I  did  not  know  you  had  one."  I  counted  six  stones  : 
"  How  much  trouble  you  have  seen  !"  I  said,  pityingly. 

"  I  was  but  a  baby  when  sister  Artemisia  died :  neither  do 
I  vividly  remember  my  father's  death.  Sister  Roby  says  that 
brother  Jesse  is  his  very  imajre." 

"  But  the  rest  ?"  I  said,  heedlessly. 

"  The  rest,"  she  echoed,  sadly,  "  I  have  mourned  as  well 
as  the  others.  My  mother  lies  there ;  and  my  three  sisters, 
whom  I  loved  dearly — Delia,  who  petted  me  more  than  the 
others ;  she  was  my  protector,  too,  if  I  got  into  mischief,  or 
trouble ;  my  nurse  when  I  was  sick,  and  I  cried  myself  into 
a  fever  when  she  died.  Sarah  faded  next — our  beautiful 
snow-wreath,  and  the  house  grew  very  lonely ;  it  hasn't  got 
out  of  the  corners  yet,"  she  said,  with  tearful  pathos,  "  and 
only  a  few  months  ago,  we  laid  sister  Submit  by  her  side." 

"  Don't  it  make  you  afraid,"  I  at  length  ventured,  "  to 
see  those  graves  every  time  you  look  from  the  window  ?" 

"  My  dear  Ruby !"  she  said  hastily,  putting  her  hand 
fondly  upon  my  shoulder.  "Afraid!  of  what?  No!"  she 
softly  continued,  without  waiting  for  my  answer.  "  There 
they  lie ;  poor,  harmless  dust  of  our  dead  divinities ;  and 
we,  whom  they  loved,  and  left  sorrowing,  keep  faithful  guard 
over  them.  There  is  something,  to  my  mind,  cold  and  com- 
fortless, in  burying  the  dear  departed  away  from  our  sight, 


100  RUBINA. 

in  a  common  cemetery.  Where  they  have  roamed  on  earth, 
there  should  they  likewise  sleep,  and  awake  at  the  sound  of 
the  last  trumpet — at  home.  There,  where  the  old  home 
violets  and  daisies  blossom,  and  clover  and  wild-brier  scent 
the  air.  Why  should  we  banish  them  to  the  silence  of  alien 
graves,  and  weeds,  and  nettles  ?  You  should  see  their  resting- 
place  in  summer,  Ruby !  It's  the  sunniest  spot  on  the  whole 
farm.  A  little  brook  winds  through  the  meadow  :  the 
orchard  lies  beyond,  where  robins  trill  the  mornings  into 
noons.  You  can  see  the  grain  wave  green  and  yellow 
in  the  field  below,  where  crows  caw  loudly.  Then,  when 
the  sun  dips'  behind  the  mountains,  the  whip-poor-will 
sounds  its  vespers,  and  fire-flies  light  their  torches.  We,  too. 
from  this  window,  watch  how  tenderly  the  moon  and 
stars  bathe  it  in  holy  light :  perhaps  we  also  think,  how  soon 
we  shall  take  our  places  beside  them  ;  but  we  are  not  afraid, 
Ruby." 

"You  do  not  wear  mourning,  Miss  Sinai?"  I  next  inter- 
rogated. 

"  No  !  that  is  a  gloomy  custom.  It  will  not  bring  them 
back,  and  it  only  saddens  the  living.  I  have  too  often  seen 
it  the  ostentatious  garb  of  hypocrites  ;  mourning  in  their 
robes,  but  rejoicing  in  their  hearts.  And  you  know,"  she 
added,  smilingly,  "we  are  part  Shakers;  they  do  not  believe 
in  it.  Still,  we  all  do  as  we  please  about  it :  each  suits 
her  own  feelings.  Sister  Charity  likes  to  wear  it,  and  does ; 
we  do  not  object,  or  ridicule  it." 

I  was  preparing  another  storm  of  questions,  but  she  play- 
fully drew  me  away  to  the  secretary,  saying,  "  Now  you  have 
ruminated  long  enough ;  see  here  !  which  will  you  have  ?" 
She  reached  down  the  volumes,  reading  aloud  their  titles. 
" « Ytfung's  Night  Thoughts' — too  gloomy,  I  suspect !"  I 


EUBINA.  101 

nodded.  She  replaced  it.  " '  Doddridge  !'  No.  'Pilgrim's 
Progress,'  then  ?"  I  shook  my  head.  "  I  know  it  by 
heart,"  I  cried. 

"  How  would  you  fancy  '  Dick's'  works,  then  ?"  and  she 
gravely  handed  me  a  ponderous  tome  for  inspection. 

"  It  looks  incomprehensible,"  I  managed  to  say,  after  a 
doubtful  survey. 

"  I  am  in  despair  then,  Ruby  !  No  ;  here  is  one  I  have  not 
seen  in  an  age"  (she  had  artfully  concealed  it  to  the  last) : 
and  she  fished  from  a  dusty  corner  a  mutilated,  ink- 
besmeared,  dog-eared  copy  of  "  Robinson  Crusoe." 

I  grasped  the  coverjess  volume  eagerly.  Aunt  Rhoda 
allowed  no  such  fascinating  tales  in  her  house :  all  such  lite- 
rature became  contraband  if  discovered,  and  was  speedily  con- 
signed to  the  flames.  Mark  managed  to  elude  his  lynx-eyed 
mother's  sense  of  moral  duty  ;  and  I  once  caught  a  glimpse 
in  Deborah's  drawer,  of  part  of  "  Charlotte  Temple." 

Miss  Sinai  knitted  rapidly  as  she  read,  bestowing  no  atten- 
tion upon  her  work,  yet  fashioning-  a  well-shaped  stocking, 
without  dropping  a  stitch.  At  intervals  she  raised  her  eyes 
to  turn  the  leaves  of  her  book,  and  to  flash  into  my  corner  a 
sunny  smile  of  pleased  content.  The  short  afternoon  waned. 
"  Five  !"  was  solemnly  knelled  by  the  clock  ere  she  stirred.: 

"  You  like  that  book,  Ruby  ?"  she  inquired. 

"  I  should  think  so,  Miss  Sinai !  It's  charming !  I  should 
like  to  live  just  so,  and  you  should  be  my  '  Friday.'  " 

She  laughed.  "  Strange,  Ruby,  but  I  don't  feel  much 
flattered.  He  was  a  savage,  you  know,  and  the  proposal 
implies  that  you  consider  me  eligible  for  one  also." 

"  Oh  !  no,  indeed.  I  prefer  you  as  you  are.  We  should  be 
a  little  more  civilized,  of  course;  have  more  to  eat;  and 
keep  out  of  the  reach  of  cannibals." 


102  RUBINA. 

"Hike  to  watch  you,  as  you  read,"  she  said,  smiling, 
"I've  had  that  pleasure  this  half  hour.  You  have  such  a 
way  of  smacking  your  lips  at  a  relishing  passage — just  as 
brother  Jesse  does  at  any  dish  which  especially  suits 
his  palate.  He  is  an  epicure  :  I  suspect  you  may  be  a 
mental  one." 

I  shook  my  head  dubiously.  "  I  never  read  any  thing," 
I  said. 

"That's  a  dreadful  state  of  things,"  she  responded,  with 
mock  seriousness. 

"  I  never  had  but  one  book,  Miss  Sinai,  guess  what 
that  was." 

"'Gulliver's  Travels,'  maybe,  or  'Arabian  Nights.'  No? 
What  then  ?" 

" '  The  Young  Woman's  Guide.' "  She  laughed  at  my 
rueful  air.  "  I  shall  never  read  it,  Miss  Sinai :  I've  tried 
more  than  once.  Aunt  Rhody  says  it's  my  duty  to  read  it 
through:  but  I  don't  remember  a  word,  when  I  try." 

She  turned  to  the  window  to  conceal  her  merriment. 
"  Poor  child !"  she  said  presently.  "  I  may  possibly  hear 
some  one  speculating  about  your  literary  tastes,  and  come  to 
the  rescue  with  a  word  of  advice,  provided  you  tell  me, 
you  know." 

"  Oh  no,  that  is  improbable,  Miss  Sinai.  '  The  Young 
Woman's  Guide'  will  go  to  my  descendants  alone." 

"  Stranger  things  than  that  I  spoke  of,  happen  now-a-days," 
she  merrily  returned,  whisking  out  the  tea-table. 

"  Crete  ain't  so  well,"  said  Miss  Roby,  gruffly,  at  tea, 
"  dreadful  plagued  for  breathin'.  I  guess  I  better  steep  up 
some  'izop  for  her.  She's  uncommon  put  to  it  for  breath,  to- 
night. I  b'lieve,  and  allers  shall,  that  she's  more  phthisicky 
than  any  thin'  else." 


EUBINA.  103 

"  It's  these  cold  -winds  that  affect  her  so.  I  do  hope  we 
shall  have  settled  weather  soon,"  said  Sinai,  anxiously. 

"  Wall,  we  won't !  ain't  no  prospect  on't.  It'll  be  dread- 
ful tryin'  all  the  spring,  'specially  when  the  trees  are  leavin' 
out,"  said  Miss  Roby,  gloomily. 

"  And  there  is  no  hyssop,"  pursued  Sinai.  "  You  will  have 
to  take  charnomile." 

Uncle  Jesse  brought  his  sisters  home  from  the  Deacon's, 
in  due  season.  Miss  Roby  questioned  them  closely  as  to 
"What  they  had  for  tea?"  "How  many  kinds  of  cake?" 
"Black  tea  or  green?"  "Sage  cheese  or  dried  beef?" 
"  Whether  the  table  appointments  were  scant  as  usual,  or 
decent  enough  for  hospitality  ?"  Finally,  "  Who  was 
there  ?  what  they  wore  ?  and  what  work  they  carried  ?" 
Sinai  colored  a  little  during  this  catechism,  but  main- 
tained profound  silence.  Her  intuitive  refinement  of  char- 
acter, controlled  by  powerful  Christian  benevolence,  ren- 
dered these  gossipy  details  extremely  distasteful.  She 
absolutely  writhed  in  her  chair  when  names  were  spoken, 
and  Miss  Zilpha's  sharp  voice  weighed  them  in  her  bal- 
ances, on  each  pronouncing  judgment.  "  Do  unto  others, 
&c.,"  was  the  broad  platform  on  which  Sinai  planted  all 
her  motives  of  thought  and  action :  self-sacrifice  was  the 
predominant  element  surrounding  her  daily  life.  She 
would  not  have  relished  a  neighbor's  discussion  of  her 
household :  she  relished  still  less  her  sisters'  method  of 
overhauling  their  neighbors;  but  an  expression  of  this 
feeliug  would  have  wounded  these  sisters — all  her  elders 
in  age — so  she  compressed  her  lips  in  resolute  silence. 
She  looked  up  only  when  the  minister  came  upon  the 
stage  ;  was  turned  around,  familiarly  discussed,  and  sent 
off  with  flying  colors.  Miss  Zilpha  pronounced  him,  "A 


104  RUBINA. 

pritty  man,  and  not  a  bit  proud  ;  I  thought  him  real  hum- 
spun,  didn't  you,  Charity  ?" 

"  Sister  Charity's  as  mum  as  a  dormouse  !"  growled  Roby. 

"  Oh !"  broke  in  Miss  Charity,  "  I'm  sure  Zilpha's  sufficient 
for  the  talking.  Your  aunt,  Ruby,  invited  him  to  take  up 
his  quarters  with  her  for  a  few  weeks ;  as  he  will  not  move 
his  family  here  yet." 

"  I  shouldn't  a  bit  wonder,  now,"  interrupted  Miss  Zilpha, 
"  If  this  tea  drinkin'  was  planned  for  that  very  purpose ;  to 
save  the  Deacon's  folks  from  bein'  obleeged  to  have  him 
there.  He's  got  to  stay  somewhere,  you  know,  and  they're 
cur'ous  creeturs  'bout  some  things.  Mis'  Martin  couldn't  do 
no  less  than  ask  him  hum  with  her,  the  way  'twas  brought 
up.  What  do  you  think,  sister  Charity  ?" 

"  I  think,"  she  answered  dryly,  "  that  we  have  sufficiently 
discussed  our  friends  and  neighbors  for  one  sitting;  so  I 
move  an  adjournment." 

Seconded,  and  carried  debateless ;  an  unconsidered  point 
of  domestic  order  faced  suddenly  the  dispersing  cabinet — 
my  bestowal  for  the  night.  The  sisters  occupied  apartments 
wherever  their  taste  dictated :  not  in  contiguity  to  each, 
other,  as  more  social  instincts  might  suggest.  The  great, 
roomy  mansion  admitted  of  entire  exclusiveness,  of  which 
they  availed  themselves.  The  house  would  no  doubt  have 
quartered  a  regiment.  Perhaps  it  had  opened  its  warm, 
wide  heart,  in  hospitable  eagerness,  to  afford  secret  shelter 
to  sorely-pressed  Revolutionary  heroes.  Its  doors  may  have 
swung  on  reluctant  hinges  for  bands  of  Tories,  and  King 
George's  soldiers  ;  the  lofty  chambers  re-echoing  their  brazen 
orgies,  with  quivering  shame.  TJncle  Jesse  had  legions  of 
stories  concerning  "good  old.  colony  times,"  stowed  away  in 
his  memory  ;  which  he  was  not  loath  to  bring  out  for  lengthy 


RUBINA.  105 

airings,  to  appreciative  listeners.  In  this  fond  pride  he  was 
neither  silly  nor  childishly  amiss.  Who  of  us — looking 
back  to  the  sad,  yet  glorious  annals  of  that  long,  gory, 
desperate  struggle ;  a  heart  to  heart,  almost  a  friend  to  friend 
strife,  between  the  powerful,  vengeful  lioness,  and  her  mad- 
dened offspring — that  thrust  not  inquisitive  fingers  at  the 
roots  of  our  own  forefathers'  sunken  graves,  to  delve  amid 
its  decaying  lore  ;  to  clear  away  the  weedy  forgetfulness, 
which  might  over-run  beyond  pruning,  and  shroud  in  shame- 
ful obscurity,  the  patriotism  and  divine  self-sacrifice  of  our 
own  soldierly  grandsires  ;  to  polish  to  a  still  brighter  lustre 
the  frail,  corroding  glimmer  of  human  fame — human  glory  ? 

A  shadow  of  these  thoughts  flitted  through  my  mind.  I 
shuddered  at  the  idea  of  sleeping  alone  in  the  strange  rooms, 
out  of  which  opened  numberless  cupboards,  presses,  and 
doors  communicating — by  narrow  passages — with  other 
rooms,  their  counterparts.  Not  portentous  things  in  them- 
selves, in  cheerful  daylight ;  but  trifles,  light  as  these,  often 
bespeak  insurmountable  terror  to  a  timid  spirit,  thoroughly 
educated  in  superstitious  lore,  and  ever  on  the  alert  to  prove 
or  disprove  its  own  stupid  imaginings. 

I  was  to  be  spared  such  trial.  Each  spinster  claimed  me 
for  her  bedfellow.  It  was  in  vain  that  Miss  Sinai,  in  answer 
to  my  appealing  glance — insisted  on  the  traditionary  right  of 
a  hostess  to  apportion  guests  their  quarters,  and  with  her 
usual  meek  submission  to  her  sisters'  whims,  she  allowed 
herself  to  be  silenced. 

Miss  Roby  declared  that,  "  I  should  try  each  of  their 
rooms  in  turn."  In  o.rder  that  fairness  might  characterize 
her  proceedings,  she  stooped  to  the  wood-box,  selecting 
therefrom  four  splinters.  These  she  arranged  in  her  two 
bony  palms,  and  requested  her  sisters  "  to  draw."  "  Mine 
5*. 


106  EUBINA. 

is  the  longest !"  she  exclaimed,  triumphantly ;  and,  gruffly 
facing  me,  she  seized  a  candle,  and  my  satchel,  and  marched 
me  off  forthwith. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

UP  a  broad,  steep,  winding  staircase  plodded  Miss  Roby's 
heavy  footsteps — echoed  by  my  fainter  tread.  Her  pegged 
boots  emitted  a  painful  squeak,  as  she  trod  the  oaken  boards 
of  the  dim,  shadowy  corridors.  A  rush  'of  cold  air  smote 
our  candle,  nearly  extinguishing  its  flickering  glimmer  :  then 
it  rushed  at  a  headlong  pace  past  us ;  enveloping  us  thereby, 
and  dissipating,  in  chattering  teeth  and  icy  shiverings,  all 
sense  of  the  glowing  warmth  and  light  of  the  family  room 
below.  Though  I  shunned,  with  curling  lip,  the  idea  of 
being  afraid,  my  poltroon  heart  tacitly  acknowledged  the  fact, 
by  sending  out  a  hand  to  clutch  cautiously  my  grim  guide's 
robe ;  and  not  for  worlds  would  I  have  ventured  a  curious 
glance  over  either  shoulder.  I  carefully  abstained  from  pull- 
ing Miss  Roby's  gown  lest  she  suddenly  turn,  and  overwhelm 
me  with  derision.  This  was  no  easy  matter,  as  her  gait  was 
a  shuffling  lurch  sideways ;  sometimes  hitting  a  shoulder 
against  the  white-washed  wall,  and  compelling  me  to  adopt 
the  same  style  of  motion.  Once,  her  foot  stumbled  at  a 
door,  which — as  if  in  answer  to  a  preconcerted  signal — flew 
open  wide.  It  brought  Miss  Roby  to  a  halt.  "  This  was 
poor  sister  Sary's  room,"  she  remarked — plunging  the  flar- 
ing wick  into  the  repellant  darkness.  "And  there  ain't  a 
thing  been  touched  in  it — so  to  speak,  sence  she  died.  See 
here !"  she  added,  entering  and  going  straight  to  a  closet- 


RUBINA.  107 

door,  which  she  opened.  It  seemed  the  abode  of  dnsty 
dampness  ;  a  vague,  mouldy  smell — that  sometimes  attaches 
itself  to  chests  of  long-packed  clothing — exhumed  therefrom. 
In  it  hung  dresses,  bonnets,  and  mantles — one,  a  scarlet 
cloak  of  broadcloth,  with  deep  capes,  in  whose  heavy  folds 
those  merciless  ravagers,  'the  moths,'  had  gnawed  huge 
modes  of  entering.  A  goodly  pile  of  counterpanes  and 
quilts  occupied  one  corner ;  wreathed  over,  with  a  spider's 
fairy-like  tracery.  Her  shoes  were  also  there,  with  creases 
crossing  the  morocco  tops,  as  if  just  removed  from  the  tired 
feet — now  rapturously  treading  the  golden  pavements  of 
the  Eternal  City.  In  the  outer  room  was  the  bed ;  made  up 
round  and  high  with  feathers,  after  the  fashion  of  New  Eng- 
land housekeepers :  the  soft  pillows,  in  their  long,  narrow 
cases,  having — above  their  hem — her  initials  worked  in  blue 
worsted  "  cross-stitch"  The  narrow-framed  mirror — one- 
half  a  picture  of  a  two-storied,  prim  country  house,  flanked 
by  wings,  and  surrounded  by  a  yellow  fence ;  out  of  which 
seemed  to  rise — (a  closer  inspection  led  to  the  surmise  that 
they  took  root  in  the  garden  behind)  flourishing  poplars,  of 
unnatural  blue-green  foliage.  Below  this  quaint  little  mirror 
was  its  accompaniment — still  to  be  found  in  rural  districts 
— a  comb-case  of  red  and  black  broadcloth,  suspended  from 
a  nail,  with  the  yellow  warped  comb  faintly  streaking  its 
mouth.  The  light-stand  underneath  the  mirror,  containing 
a  work-basket  and  its  implements ;  a  little  basket  of  tiny 
shells,  and  yellowish  white  "  lucky  bones ;"  a  Ilymn-Book 
and  a  Bible.  These  mute  surroundings  lingered  still  at  the 
maiden's  shrine :  the  pilgrim  frequenter,  with  penitential 
tears,  had  been  rapt  heavenward,  to  kneel  at  a  higher  wor- 
ship. This  room  seemed  the  real  grave  of  the  vanished 
human  present;  sadder,- more  solitary,  more  sacred  by  far 


108  RUBINA. 

than  the  grassy,  snow-covered  heap  in  yonder  meadow. 
That  seeme'd  an  empty  symbol,  erected  to  satisfy  man's 
love  for  a  tangible  form :  this,  the  real  cemetery.  Nay !  it 
seemed — the  longer  we  lingered — as  if  the  life  that  formerly 
inhabited  it  still  clung  earthward ;  still  trod  the  faded  car- 
pet, and  looked  into  our  eyes,  or  floated  in  space,  around 
and  above  our  heads  ;  in  some  mysterious  guise,  impalpable 
to  our  gross  eyes  of  clay,  but  making  her  presence  visible  to 
our  finer  inward  consciousness ;  just  as  Music,  floating  down 
to  us  from  the  same  unseen,  immortal  height? — itself  no  less 
a  breath  of  the  same  divinity — condescends  to  draw  nigh 
unto  our  earthly  embodiment ;  to  claim  kinship  with  flesh, 
bone,  muscle,  and  thrill  our  dormant  spiritual  fibres  with 
its  vague,  mesmeric  pulsations. 

I  could  not  repress  a  shudder — which  was  partly  of  men- 
tal origin — at  the  icy  dampness  of  the  room,  most  tomb-like. 
I  even  thought  I  could  detect  a  lingering  smell  of  the  var- 
nished coffin — borne  from  it  so  long  ago — and  I  wondered 
at  the  matter-of-fact  complacency  of  Miss  Roby's  countenance. 
She  evidently  was  unawed  by  ghostly  imaginings,  as  she 
settled  several  chairs  anew,  and  pulled  the  awry  bed-spread 
into  place.  I  was  inexpressibly  relieved  when  she  mo- 
tioned me  out,  closed  the  door,  and  again  took  up  the  line 
of  march  toward  her  own  quarters.  These  were  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  last  narrow  passage.  It  was  her  whimsical  fancy 
to  room  here,  where  not  a  geniaj  whiff  of  sound  of  the  life 
below  stairs,  or  her  sisters'  distant  chambers  could  smite  her 
ears.  If  there  be  a  charm  in  isolation,  Miss  Boby  found 
and  enjoyed  it.  In  these  upper  rooms  she  ruled  alone;  no 
recluse  in  his  cell  more  given  over  to  welcome  solitude.  Her 
solitary  window  looked  on  the  garden — now  a  white  waste — 
and,  afar  off,  the  continuous  gray  mountain  chain,  from 


RUBINA.  109 

•which  Greybaul  towered — king  among  peers ;  undisputed 
prophet,  among  his  followers. 

Miss  Roby  paused  at  the  door,  drew  a  key  from  her 
pocket,  and  solemnly  unlocked  it.  She  pushed  me  in  before 
her,  and  I  imagined  how  a  convicted,  sentenced  culprit 
might  feel,  traversing,  in  company  with  his  jailer,  dim 
prison-wards ;  ushered,  in  reluctant  state,  to  his  dreary  cell. 
However,  my  turnkey  followed  me  in,  and  closed  the  door 
with  a  heavy  bang :  the  draught  of  air  it  created  extinguished 
our  candle,  and  as  she  again  turned  the  key  in  the  lock  we 
were  left  in  utter  darkness. 

"  This  is  a  pretty  how-d'ye-do,"  she  muttered,  audibly ; 
"  nary  a  lucifer-match  in  the  room,  I'll  be  bound !  though, 
for  that  matter,  Lucifer  himself  is  allers  round,  seekin'  who 
he  may  devour,  body  and  branch.  Do  you  know  that, 
Rubiny  ?"  raising  her  voice  to  a  sepulchral  treble,  as  she 
searched — groping  heavily  around — for  wherewith  to  kindle 
a  light ;  evidently  with  the  result  she  had  predicted,  for  she 
unlocked  the  door,  and  saying :  "  You  stay  here,  and  I'll  git 
it  lit  in  a  minnit,"  shuffled  heavily  away.  I  trembled  like  a 
leaf;  for — in  spite  of  my  secret  shame  at  the  thought — I 
was  an  arrant  coward.  Her  last  remark  conjured  up  the 
idea  of  his  Satanic  majesty.  "  She  may  be  right,"  whispered 
my  craven  heart.  "  He  may,  even  now,  be  marking  you  for 
his  prey.  What  if  he  should  seize  me?  I  am  no  doubt  a 
fit  subject !"  In  despair  at  this  horrible  suggestion,  I  tim- 
orously crouched  on  the  floor,  and  fell — in  a  happy  fit  of 
faith — to  saying  my  prayers  with  vigor.  I  think  I  never  re- 
hearsed the  familiar  prattle  with  more  energetic  demonstra- 
tions, or  in  a  louder  tone.  Such  earnestness  would  season 
many  torpid  prayer-meetings,  with  a  savor  of  warmth  very 
convincing  and  melting  to  the  cold  snows  of  congealing  sin- 


110  RUBHTA. 

ners'  hearts,  which  never — by  such  suns— Have  chance  to 
thaw.  I  dared  not  put  out  a  hand,  lest  I  inadvertently 
clutch  what  I  most  dreaded ;  "  perhaps,"  thought  I,  "  the 
very  cloven  feet  themselves,  or  the  snaky  appendage, 
always  honoring  artistic  representations  of  the  destroyer  of 
Eve,  in  the  Sunday-school  books,  which  frighten  credulous 
children  into  early  piety,  precocious  experiences,  and  early 
graves."  Cold  chills  ran  over  me.  I  felt  my  hair  rise  on 
end  ;  that  strange  phenomena  which  so  often  thrills  us : 
often,  while  roaming  heedlessly  some  green,  sunny  meadow, 
or  in  a  crowded  street,  or  by  the  quiet  home  hearth-fire — 
which  Deborah  explained  by  saying  that  we  were  on  the 
identical  spot  where,  in  the  future,  should  rest  our  graves. 
"  Am  I  to  be  buried  here  ?  She  has  been  gone  long  enough 
to  light  forty  candles.  You're  a  fool !"  I  added,  to  my  beat- 
ing heart,  which  was  thumping  away  like  a  sledge-hammer. 
To  quiet  it,  I  began  a  good  old  Psalm,  and  had  half  finished 
it,  when  the  heavy  tread  again  resounded,  and  a  welcome 
gleam  of  day  shone  on  my  night. 

A  malicious  smile  distorted  Miss  Roby's  wide  mouth,  as  she 
comprehended  my  terrors.  I  verily  believe  she  rejoiced  there- 
in, and  would  have  relished  exceedingly  another  trip  down- 
stairs, ceuld  she  have  summoned  to  her  aid  an  eligible  excuse. 

"  Why,  child  alive  !  you're  as  white  as  a  sheet,"  she  said, 
putting  down  the  candle.  "  You  didn't  see  nothin'  now,  did 
you,  to  scare  you  so  ?"  she  whispered,  curiously  regarding  me. 
"  I  tell  you  /"  she  added,  grimly  shutting  her  teeth,  "  I  got  a 
rale  lectur'  from  sister  Siny,  for  leavin'  you  up  here  in  the  dark. 
Jest's  though  any  thing'd  tech  you  here  sooner'n  down  in  her 
room  J"  she  said,  with  scornful  emphasis.  "  Idon't  know  how 
'tis;  but  somehow  or  uther  she's  took  to  you  mightily;  and 
for  that  matter,  she's  oncommon  'fraid  of  the  dark,  herself." 


RUBIN  A.  Ill 

"  Is  she  ?"  I  asked,  immensely  relieved. 

"  Yis,  Rubiny  Ann !  she  is — ef  that's  any  comfort ;  and  I 
s'pose  'tis,  for  misery  likes  company,  you  know.  I  knowed 
you  was  scart  awful ;  or  you  wouldn't  strike  up  old  '  Dun- 
dee' in  that  are  way."  She  paused  and  shook  with  laughter. 

"  Are  you  glad  of  it  ?"  I  asked,  indignantly.  "  I  believe 
you  blew  out  the  light  on  purpose  to  try  me." 

"  Law !  no,  child,  I  didn't ;  no  such  thing."  She  chuckled 
still  to  herself.  "  I  was  only  a  thinkin'  how  folks  allers  goes 
to  singin'  when  they're  scart ;  as  if  that'd  help  'em  any ! 
When  sister  Siny  was  a  leetle  gal,  she'd  strike  up  '  On  the 
road  to  Zion,'  jest  as  soon  as  she  opened  the  sullar-door,  to 
go  arter  potatoes  or  apples.  I've  sent  her  down  many  a 
time,  jest  to  hear  her;  and  laughed  ready  to  split,  all  the 
time.  There's  Benjamin  Field,  too,  that  lives  jest  above 
here :  he's  courtin'  Sary  Jane  Wells,  over  on  '  Stafford's 
Hill,'  and  he  goes  hum,  Sunday  nights,  a-screechin'  as  loud  as 
he  can  yell — a  reg'lar  Injun  whoop ;  he  hain't  no  voice,  nor 
never  had;  or  else  he  whistles,  and  one  noise's  bad  as 
t'other.  Great  fool  he  is,  to  let  ev'ry  body  know  how  late 
he  comes  hum  :  I  lay  here  and  laugh  all  to  myself,  knowin' 
he's  as  'fraid  as  death — ef  tain't  moonlight — and  he  thinks 
nobody  don't  know  it.  "  Now,"  she  resumed,  more  gruffly 
than  ever,  "  I  should  like  nothin'  better  than  to  see  a  spook, 
if  there  be  any :  I  reckon  we'd  come  to  an  understandin' 
proper  quick,  and  I'll  resk  but  what  I'd  git  the  upper  hand 
of  'em,  in  less  than  no  time,  if  we  did  have  a  tussel." 

Miss  Roby's  sleeping  apartment  was  a  museum  of  old- 
maidish  hoards — dusty,  useless  lingerings  from  the  Past's 
remembrances,  which  she  piled  into  corners,  chests,  and 
cupboards ;  shoved  under  the  high  tent-bedstead — itself  a 
cherished  relic  ;  and  littered  the  tops  of  bureau  and  chairs. 


112  RUBINA. 

There  the  high  chair  stood,  in  which  all  the  Warner  babies 
had  been  tied,  and  drawn  to  the  family  board,  from  time 
immemorial.  By  its  side  the' heavy  wooden  cradle;  its 
ponderous  cliff  shelving  off  to  the  high,  straight  sides,  yet 
wearing  a  very  spectral  look ;  as  though  your  eye — by  too 
long  gazing — might  start  to  life  its  half-forgotten  rock.  Old 
stools  were  there,  worm-eaten,  hacked,  and  rickety,  yet  dear 
to  Miss  Roby's  ancient  heart,  from  the  spell  of  some  cherished 
reminiscence.  Chairs,  with  patchwork  cushions  of  red  and 
black  camlet — frayed  and  faded,  but  which  told  their  own 
eloquent  stories :  a  mother's  and  sisters'  forms  rocked  to 
and  fro  in  them  long  ago  ;  a  mother's  and  sisters'  fingers — 
long  since  food  for  worms — had  fashioned  their  diamond  and 
octagon  forms,  and  pressed  them  into  service.  There  were 
wooden  boxes  of  all  sizes,  full  of  odds  and  ends  which  no- 
body else  wanted,  but  which  Miss  Roby  prized  ;  yellow, 
warped  ivory  combs,  broken  brushes,  an  empty  box  of  black- 
ing, with  the  label,  "  British  Lustre,"  smeared  and  torn, 
shrivelled  ears  of  "pop-corn,1'  rolls  of  gay  calicoes  "for 
piecing,"  small  wooden  bowls  of  Shaker  manufacture,  bits  of 
shattered  looking-glasses,  dilapidated  school-books,  and  num- 
berless round  tin  boxes.  From  one  of  these  latter  she 
whipped  off  the  cover.  It  was  nearly  filled  with  pins, 
bright,  straight  and  new,  mixed  with  old,  corroded,  crooked 
monsters,  and  a  sprinkling  of  black,  tiny  weapons.  She 
plucked  a  few  from  her  dress  and  added  them  to  the  stock, 
sententiously  observing :  "  I  never  go  by  a  pin,  Rubiny  Ann, 
without  pickin'  on  it  up  ;  it's  a  sign  ye'll  never  be  rich  if  ye 
do.  See  !  what  a  lot  of  'em  I  git  by  this  means.  I  hain't 
bought  a  pin  in,  I  don't  know  when.  I  find  plenty,  out 
doors  and  in  ;  other  folks's  droppin's.  And  that  ain't  all, 
nuther.  Now  look  there  !  '  Waste  not,  want  not,'  ye  know. 


RUBINA.  113 

For  my  part  /  believe  in  bein'  prudent,  and  layin'  up  'g'inst 
time  o'  need  comes  along."  She  removed  another  cover. 
"  I  can  allers  find  here  the  very  identical  button  I  want  for 
brother  Jesse's  pants,  cut,  or  wes'cut."  In  truth,  it  was  a 
miscellaneous  assemblage  of  brown,  white,  brass  buttons,  and 
covered  moulds — all  ripped  from  discarded  clothing;  very 
many  with  the  threads  of  former  service  persistently  clinging 
to  their  eyes. — a  taunting  reminder  in  their  present  igno-  \ 
minious  state  of  dependence.  "  B'tween  you  and  me, 
Rubiny  Ann,  the  girls  laugh  at  my  savin'  and  prudence ;  but 
they're  mighty  glad  to  come  to  me  for  some  on  'em,  once  in 
a  while.  There's  jest  the  very  thing  now,  for  brother  Jesse's 
galluses ;  I'll  take  that  out  while  I  think  on't." 

Though  certainly  not  an  alluring  companion,  Miss  Roby 
was,  in  her  odd  way,  both  social  and  kind.  Observing  me 
shiver,  as  I  drew  around  me  the  ample  quilts,  she  reached  to 
the  bed-post  for  her  red  flannel  petticoat,  to  spread  over 
me.  I  slyly  pushed  it  back.  "You're  a  dainty  piece, 
Rubiny  Ann,  as  ever  the  Lord  let  live,"  she  growled  under 
her  teeth. 

"  My  name  is  not  Ann,"  I  returned  stoutly. 

"  Yis  'tis,  too  ;  or  oughter  be,"  she  insisted.  "  Wan't 
you  named  after  your  grand-marm  Lee,  I'd  like  to 
know  ?" 

"  Yes !  but  my  mother  did  not  call  me  Ann,"  I  returned. 

"  Half  a  name  ain't  no  name  a'  tall,"  she  persisted, 
maliciously.  "  Her  name  was  Rubiny  Ann,  so  of  course 
your'n  is  too." 

I  disdained  a  reply ;  and  in  the  long  silence  that  ensued 
I  was  lapsing  off  to  sleep  most  comfortably,  when  her 
stentorian  murmur  again  aroused  me :  "  Be  you  sleepy, 
Rubiny  Ann  ?" 


114  RUBINA. 

"  No !"  I  answered  bravely,  opening  wide  my  eyes,  and 
peering  around  the  room  to  keep  awake.  As  they  became 
accustomed  to  the  gloom,  the  objects  they  discerned  looked 
strange  and  ghostly.  Miss  Roby's  dresses  hung  around  on 
pegs.  As  I  looked  at  them  intently,  they  seemed  to  move, 
swaying  back  and  forth  like  living  things.  Her  old  black 
hood,  from  its  lofty  perch,  nodded,  and  beckoned  me  to  a 
like  elevation.  Her  striped  shawl  fluttered  proud  defiance, 
and  shook  a  tattered  corner  at  me  threateningly.  Even  the 
high  infant's  chair  attempted  a  grand  chassez  with  the 
cradle ;  and  the  cushioned  rocking-chairs  quivered  omi- 
nously. These  objects  were  not  agreeable,  I  again  closed 
my  eyelids. 

"  What  a  mum  leetle  piece  you  be !"  remarked  Miss  Roby. 
"  You  don't  like  me,  I  guess,  for  I  heerd  you  chatterin'  like 
a  magpie  this  afternoon,  to  sister  Siny." 

I  did  not  even  offer  a  polite  disclaimer.  She  appeared  to 
resent  my  silence. 

"  You  take  after  your  mother,  Rubiny  Ann ;  she  wan't  no 
great  talker." 

"  She  never  ran  when  she  heard  company  coining,"  was 
my  mental  ejaculation.  Miss  Roby  resumed — determined  to 
unseal  my  lips — 

"  Your  father,  now,  was  a  proper  sociable  body ;  he'd 
keep  the  hull  room  in  a  roar  for  hours  upon  a  stretch — 

"  You  knew  him,  then,  Miss  Roby,"  I  eagerly  interrupted. 

"  What's  to  hender  my  knowin'  on  him,  I  wonder  ?  He 
lived  round  here  nigh  'pon  three  or  four  year — married  here, 
you  know." 

"  What  sort  of  a  man  was  he,  Miss  Roby  ?  I  mean,  as  he 
appeared  to  you." 

"  Humph !"  she  growled,  "  a  putty  chap  'nough,  if  he'd 


KUBINA.  115 

bin  a  likely  one — -which  he  wasn't.  I  s'pose  you  know  that 
ere  as  well's  the  rest  of  us  :  he  run  away  and  left  you,  'cause 
he  and  your  mother  didn't  draw  well  together ;  served  him 
right  too,"  she  whispered,  savagely. 

"  Yes,"  I  responded,  not  quite  understanding  her  allusion. 

"  Strange  !  now,"  she  went  on  after  a  pause,  "  the  rest  all 
seem  to  overlook  what's  gone  before  ;  but  somehow,  for  the 
life  of  me,  /  can't.  Scriptur'  doctrine  does  very  well  to 
plaster  over  old  sores,  with  some;  but  with  me  they're 
dreadful  apt  to  break  out,  arter  a  spell,  as  bad  as  ever.  That 
are  place  where  it  speaks  'bout  turnin'  t'other  cheek,  if  your 
enemy  hits  you  a  cuff  on  one,  and  lettin'  him  have  the  same 
chance  ag'in,  allers  riled  me  consid'rable.  I  feel  like  givin' 
on  'em  back,  as  good  as  they  send,  don't  you  now, 
Eubiny  Ann?" 

"  Yes !"  I  cried  ;  laughing  in  spite  of  myself. 

"  You'll  laugh  out  the  other  corner  of  your  mouth  one  of 
these  days,"  she  said  solemnly.  "  I  used  to  tell  sister  Sary 
that  are,  and  it  come  true,  too,  arter  a  time.  She  was  the 
liveliest  of  us  all,  and  she'd  laugh  me  right  square  in  the 
face,  when  I  tried  to  sober  her  down — dear  heart !  she  grew 
sober  'nough  finally,  and  then,  Rubiny — see  what  strange 
creeturs  we  be — I'd  a  gi'n  a  new  dime  to  a  seen  the  old 
smiles  come  back  ag'in." 

"  Tell  me  about  her,  Miss  Roby,  I'm  not  sleepy." 

"  Nor  I  nuther.  Wall,  child,  if  I  do,  you  mustn't  breathe 
a  lisp  on't  to  a  soul  down  stairs.  They  wouldn't  like  it  if 
they  knew  it,  and  I  s'pose  it  ain't  much  use  rakin'  up  old 
scores  to  live  'em  over  ag'in." 

"  I  never  will  tell,"  I  solemnly  repeated. 

"See't  you  don't ;  if  you  know  when  you're  well  off,"  she 
growled;  then,  after  a  moment's  reflection,  she  resumed: 


116  RUBINA. 

"  You  see,  when  your  father  come  here,  to  set  up  shop  down 
'  t'the  Centre',  he  was  a  young  man,  fresh  from  college,  nice 
lookin'  too,  and  clever  as  the  day  is  long  ;  and  t'warn't  a 
thousand  year  'fore  all  our  young  gals  was  arter  him  all  sorts ; 
they  all  sot  their  best  lookin'  caps  for  him.  He  was  'cute 
'nough  to  sense  it  too,  and  he  jest  jined  in  the  fun.  He  driv 
all  the  other  young  fellers  off  the  field,  and  he  went  with  who 
he  pleased — fust  with  one,  then  with  t'other.  Bam'bye  he  took 
to  waitin'  on  sister  Sary  sort  o'  reg'lar,  hum  from  sing-in' 
schools  and  junketts ;  and  then  he  asked  her  for  her  com- 
pany, and  ev'ry  Sunday  night  arter  that  he  set  up  with  her. 
I  allers  thought  she  didn't  set  no  great  store  by  him  at  fust ; 
she  wanted  to  bother  the  other  girls  who  all  stood  ready  to 
snap  him  up  at  a  mouthful.  But  he  had  a  takin'  way,  and, 
arter  a  spell,  she  fairly  sot  her  life  by  him  :  wouldn't  hear  no- 
body speak  one  word  ag'inst  him,  in  any  shape  whatever. 
She  give  Seth  Field  up  here  (Ben's  father)  the  mitten  on  his 
a'count.  You  see  he'd  been  shyin'  round  quite  a  spell — and 
he  was  as  likely  a  lad  as  ever  trod  shoe-leather.  He  fairly 
worshipped  the  ground  she  trod  on,  and  no  wonder  nuther, 
for  sister  Sary,  in  them  days,  wus  as  handsome  as  a  pictur ; 
looked  more  like  Siny  than  any  the  rest  on  us.  She  wus 
ruther  rude,  and  rattle-headed  sometimes,  and  brimful  of 
mischief,  but  true  as  steel  to  any  one  she  took  a  notion  to. 
"VVall,  things  run  along  so  ;  and  ev'ry  body  looked  at  it  as  a 
settled  thing,  and  begun  to  joke  us  'bout  the  weddin'.  •  Seth 
drew  in  his  horns  too,  and  to  spite  her,  went  off  and  married 
Lociny  Sweet,  down  '  t'the  Holler' ;  put  his  own  eyes  out,  a 
tryin'  to  put  out  other  people's.  She's  led  him  a  dog's  life 
on't  all  his  days  ;  makes  him  toe  the  mark,  I  tell  you.  He 
has  to  stay  to  hum  and  tend  the  baby,  while  she  goes  off  to 
sowin'  s'ciety,  or  t'  the  '  Female  weekly  mission  meetin'  for 


RUBINA.  117 

heathen.'  He  has  to  git  up  and  cook  the  breakfast  'fore  he 
calls  her;  does  the  washing  and  churnin',  and  helps  do  chores 
gin'rally,  when  he  aint  nothin'  else  to  see  to.  Its  broke  him 
down  tumble.  Wall,  as  I  was  sayin',  we  b'gun  to  git  things 
together  for  sister,  'ginst  the  time  she'd  want  'em  ;  we'd  keep 
askin'  her  when  that  was  ?  She  never  made  much  of  any  an- 
swer, and  we  all  thought  'twas  cur'ous  how  bashful  she'd  be- 
come ;  but  brother  Jesse  never  would  have  her  teased  a  mite, 
— You  'sleep,  Rubiny  Ann  ?" 

"  No,  indeed !"  I  cried,  starting  up.  "  I  am  listening. 
What  came  next,  Miss  Roby  ?" 

"  A  weddin',  child ;  but  not  sister's,"  she  answered  drear- 
ily. "  What' 11  you  say,  child,  if  I  tell  you  that  in  all  this 
time  he'd  courted  her  (over  two  years)  he'd  never  said  one 
word  'bout  that  ?"  After  a  pause  she  resumed.  "  One  beau- 
tiful spring  mornin',  Jesse  come  in  from  the  barn,  and  beck- 
oned me  out  in't  the  cheese-room  :  'twas  eighteen  years  ago 
come  next  May,  but  it  don't  seem  half  so  long.  He  looked 
dreadful  cut  up  'bout  something,  and  he  hem'd  and  hawed  ever 
so  long,  'fore  he  finally  got  it  out :  '  Roby,  Cornelus  Brooks 
wus  married  last  night,  down  to  Square  Lee's,  to  Car'line. 
What  d'you  think  of  that  ?'  Them's  his  very  words.  I 
never  was  so  took  aback  in  all  my  life.  '  It  can't  be  ;  brother 
Jesse,'  I  said,  '  for  he  was  here  last  Sunday  night :  he  and 
Sary  never  had  no  fallin'  out,  I  know.'  '  I  can't  help  thatj 
he  answered.  l  It's  so,  for  Mr.  Pierce  jest  went  away  from 
here ;  he  come  up  to  tell  me :  he  said  we  ought  to  know- 
of  it.  They've  gone  off  t'the  city,  and  I  hope  they'll  stay 
there  one  spell.  I'm  a  church  member,  sister,  in  good 
and  regular  standin' ;  I  don't  want  to  have  hard  feelin's 
to  one  of  God's  creeturs ;  but  I  do  feel  tempted  to 
do  somethin'  awful  to  that  are  man.  I'm  glad — for  his 


118  EUBINA. 

sake — he  aint  here.'  I  s'pose,  mabby,  I  looked  as  if  I  would 
do  somethin',  for  ho  said  right  off — '  we'll  leave  him  in  God's 
hands,  sister  Roby.  His  sin  will  find  him  out  yit' — and  I 
tell  ye  it  has,  Rubiny." 

"  What  did  you  do  ?"  I  asked  eagerly. 

"  Do  !  what  could  I  do  ?  Brother  Jesse  told  me,  I  must 
tell  the  rest,  and  have  it  over  with ;  and  he  jest  turned  and 
went  off  t'the  barn  again,  'fore  I  could  open  my  head.  I 
can't  b'gin  to  say  how  long  I  stood  there.  Jesse  went  to 
threshin'  the  barn  floor  with  the  flail,  as  hard  as  he  could. 
I  knew  he  was  a  tryin'  to  work  off  the  chokin'  feelin'.  I'm 
'fraid  if  he'd  got  sioht  o'  that  are  man  jest  then,  he'd  a  flayed 
him  alive.  Wall,  child,  pretty  soon  Sary  herself  come  out  to 
see  what  kept  me  so  long.  We'd  jest  tore  up  for  house- 
cleanin',  and  wus  all  in  commotion.  She  looked  like  a  June 
pink  as  she  come  out  a  singin'  like  a  bobolink,  though  the 
tune  was  mournful  like  ;  I  can  hear  it  yit — "  Miss  Roby  at- 
tempted to  sing  it : 

'  'Twas  down  in  the  lowlan's,  where  Mary  Ann  did  wander  1 
Twas  down  in  the  lowlan's,  where  Mary  Ann  did  roam  1 
She  belonged  to  this  nation,  she's  lost  her  .dear  relation, 
Cries  the  poor  fisherman's  little  gal,  whose  friends  are  dead  and  gone.' 

"  Wall,  it  struck  me  kinder  sad  and  sudden,  and  I  bust  out 
a  cryin'.  She  stopped  and  looked  scart.  '  Why  sister,  what 
has  happened  ?'  says  she,  kinder  thick.  I  never  saw  you  cry 
•before.'  " 

"  Well,  Miss  Roby  ?"  I  questioned,  for  she  stopped  and 
sighed  several  times. 

"  Yis,  child !  I  jest  put  my  arms  round  her  and  said, 
'  Thank  the  Lord,  you  haint  lost  all  your  friends.  Pm 
thankful  on  the  whole  that  you've  got  red  of  the  desatcful 


RUBINA.  119 

scamp.'  Wall,  she  looked  puzzleder  than  ever :  she  didn't 
see  no  drift  at  all,  and  I  jest  had  to  speak  right  out  plain.  I'd 
a  thousand  deal  rather  cut  my  little  finger  off,  child.  She 
didn't  take  it  as  I  expected.  She  didn't  faint  away,  nor 
scream,  nor  cry,  nor  nothin'.  She  jest  turned  white  as  a 
ghost,  never  made  no  sound,  only  turned  away  from  me,  and 
went  off  t'the  haymow,  and  there  she  stayed  the  whole  blessed 
forenoon  alone — none  on  us  dared  go  anigh  her ;  but  she 
come  into  dinner  jest  as  usual,  and  she  worked  like  a  slave 
the  whole  arternoon.  We  never  said  no  more  'bout  it  'fore 
her,  nor  she  nuther  to  us.  * 

"  The  neighbors  pryed  and  peeked  round  consid'rable. 
Some  folks  tried  to  make  a  great  handle  out  of  it ;  they  said 
lots  of  things,  but  there  wan't  a  word  of  truth  in  none  of 
'em ;  no  livin'  soul  ever  knowed  jest  how  matters  stood  :  she 
bore  up  so  bravely,  I  wanted  to  break  off  with  the  whole 
Lee  tribe ;  they'd  used  her  so  pizon  mean ;  but  she  wouldn't 
hear  a  word  'bout  it,  and  so  we  jest  came  and  went  as  before." 

"  She  died  ?"  I  ventured  to  ask. 

"  Yis !  Eighteen  years  ago,"  said  Miss  Roby,  "  she  went 
like  all  the  rest.  She  wanted  to  go,  and  we  couldn't  ask  her 
to  stay  in  this  troublesome  world.  She  kep'  sayin'  over  and 
over  to  herself,  hours  afore  she  dropped  away, '  where  the 
weary  are  at  rest.'  It's  on  her  tombstun ;  Jesse  would  have 
it  on." 

"  You  must  all  hate  me,"  I  said  soberly,  after  the  excite- 
ment of  hearing  a  story  had  vanished,  and  I  reflected  on  the 
sorrow  my  father's  conduct  had  brought  to  that  peaceful  roof. 

"Massy,  no,  child;  what  be  you  a  thinkin'  of?  I  never 
see  brother  Jesse  so  fond  of  ary  child  as  he  is  of  you.  These 
things  all  happened  ages  ago,  you  know ;  and  they'd  be 
dreadful  put  out  if  they  knew  I'd  told  you." 


120  RUBINA. 

Still,  the  unwelcome  thought  hovered  over  me  like  a  bird 
of  ill  omen  ;  it  brooded  in  the  pauses  of  Miss  Roby's  stream 
of  talk,  poured  now  into  inattentive  ears  ;  then,  flapping  its 
black  wings,  it  scudded  noiselessly  out  of  the  locked  /  door, 
along  the  dark  corridors,  until  it  came  to  a  room — opened 
wide.  Was  it  my  fatality  to  forever  see  that  deserted  room, 
with  closed  and  open  eyelids  ?  thought  I  mournfully.  It  was 
no  fancy,  after  all,  which  made  me  feel  her  vanished  presence. 
She  was  there :  she  herself  opened  the  door  for  us  to  enter. 
Does  she  ordain  me  to  do  penance  for  a  father's  sin  ?  Is  the 
robe  of  retribution  now  enveloping  his  head,  to  extend  its 
sable  skirts  over  all  these  weary  distances  of  time,  space,  and 
repentance,  to  reach  my  unparticipating  knowledge  ?  Yes  ! 
it  was  but  implicitly  vindicating  the  immutability  of  its  own 
law.  I  assented  to  its  justice.  My  excited  fancy  was  quick 
to  pursue,  to '  picture  awaiting  scenes  in  the  future.  How 
strange  !  thought  I,  that  Miss  Roby  does  not  suspect  this. 

Miss  Roby  would  not  easily  have  been  led  to  entertain  this 
idea;  she  would  have  scouted  its*Vild  impracticability;  re- 
lentlessly pursued  the  gloomy  fugitive,  and  finally  laughed  it 
down,  as  the  essence  of  all  that  is  ridiculous.  In  her  sensible 
fancy  floated  no  airy  specks  of  doom,  ripening  to  an  impas- 
sable border  land  of  morbid  imaginings.  Fact  kept  the  cur- 
rent clear.  The  material  was  in  her  nature,  too  ponderous 
for  these  subtile  threads  of  the  spiritual  'to  leave  any  definite 
trace  of  their  workings.  Sooth  to  say,  her  mere  aspect,  and 
one  utterance  in  her  stentorian  tones,  were  enough  to  fright- 
en peacefully  disposed  nocturnal  visitants  back  to  their  un- 
quiet rest.  I  could  imagine  her  elevating  that  wide-frilled 
nightcap  in  grim  composure,  to  scan  closely  the  shadowy 
mystery ;  resting  her  chin  in  one  hard  palm,  as  she  then  se- 
renely opened  a  conversation  with  the  spectral  dame  from 


RUBINA.  121 

Paradise.  And  the  manner  of  this  discourse,  in  which  she 
would  endeavor  to  "  get  the  upper  hand"  of  ghostly  logic — 
unawed,  a  little  excited,  but  not  in  the  least  frightened — it  all 
rushed  over  me  so  vividly  that  I  laughed.  This  unlucky 
giggle  started  her  bolt  upright. 

"  I  don't,  for  the  life  of  me,  see  nothin'  to  laugh  at.  It's 
what'll  overtake  all  on  us  some  day,"  she  gruffly  observed, 
evidently  inferring  my  mirth  was  occasioned  by  her  stories. 
I  made  no  response,  and  sbe  presently  recommenced ;  flood- 
ing me  with  all  manner  of  by-gone  recollections. 

"  Wall,  now,"  she  remarked,  settling  herself  comfortably 
among  the  pillows,  "  I  ain't  no  b'liever  at  all  in  signs  and 
wonders,  and  never  thought  much  about  them  things,  till  ar- 
ter  Phebe  Besely  was  took  down  with  canker-rash,  though 
I'd  allers  heerd,  from  a  child  up,  as  many  stories  as'd  stretch 
from  Ban  to  Beersheba,  'bout  this  very  thing.  Poor  Phebe 
was  dreadful  sick.  They  had  a  council  of  doctors  for  her, 
from  all  parts.  Old  Doctor  Ray  was  here,  from  Chispa,  to  see 
her;  but  t'wan't  no  go.  They  all  give  her  up,  sooner  or  later, 
all  but  Doctor  Lovejoy ;  he  stuck  to  her  till  he  see  there  warn't 
a  grain  o'  hope  she'd  ever  pick  up  agin,  then  he  told  'em  too. 
They  wanted  he  should  keep  a  tryin' ;  so  he'd  jest  give  her  a 
leetle  somethin'  to  ease  her  along.  She  was  fevery,  and  out 
of  her  head  most  of  the  time,  ravin'  crazy,  as  you  may  say. 
Her  poor  mother  was  most  distracted.  Wall,  child,  she  was 
struck  with  death  four  days  afore  she  died ;  didn't  sense  no- 
body nor  nothin';  eyes  sot  in  her  head,  and  her  under-jaw 
had  to  be  propped  up  to  keep  her  mouth  shet.  I  don't  know 
but  she'd  a  been  in  that  condition  yit,  if  I  hadn't  happened 
to  run  in  there.  What  to  do. they  didn't  know.  You  see 
they  couldn't  do  nothin7  for  her,  and  'twas  awful  to  set  and 
see  her  in  sech  a  plight.  Sister  Zilpha'd  been  in  that  morn- 


122  RUBINA. 

in',  and  she  told  me  how  she  was.  It  was  my  week  to  do 
housework,  but  I  told  her  ef  she's  a  mind  to  wash  up  the 
supper-dishes  I'd  go  in  and  watch,  as  I  hadn't  been  over  the 
door-sill  in  most  a  fortnit ;  so  I  did.  It  was  a  bitter  cold 
night.  I  never  see  nobody  change  so  as  Mis'  Besely  had ; 
she  looked  proper  old,  and  as  thin  as  a  shad — most  worn 
out  a  watchin .  She  catched  holt  o'  my  hand  the  minute  I 
sot  foot  in  the  entry,  and  says  she,  '  Roby,  do  see  if  there 
can't  nothin'  be  done  for  that  poor  child  in  there,'  and  she 
bust  out  a  cryin'.  I  went  in,  and  Phebe  lay  there  stupid 
like,  and  mournin'  jest  like  a  dove  when  she's  pickin'  one 
of  her  little  ones  to  pieces.  I've  often  heerd  'em  in  the  raft- 
ers, where  they've  nests,  and  it's  the  mournfullest  sound  in 
creation  ;  'twould  most  make  a  stun  weep  to  hear  'em. 

"  I  stood  there  ever  so  long.  All  to  once  I  happened  to 
think.  Says  I :  '  What  sort  of  a  bed  is  this  ere,  Miss  Besely  ?' 
*  Why,'  says  she,  '  don't  you  know  a  feather-bed,  Koby, 
when  you  see  it  afore  your  face'n  eyes  ?' 

" '  What  kind  of  feathers,  I  mean,'  says  I,  '  goose  feathers 
or  hen's  feathers  ?' 

"*  Hen's  feathers,'  said  she,  looking  kinder  down'n  the 
mouth.  You  see,  Rubiny,  they  wan't  very  well-to-do  in  the 
world,  and  had  to  put  up  with  sech  as  they  could  git — '  thafs 
the  reason  she  can't  die,'  said  I  to  myself ;  '  it  must  come  off 
short  order  ;'  and  it  did  come  off,  and  she  jest  dropped  away 
as  easy  as  a  lamb.  In  less  than  an  hour  I  was  sowin'  on  her 
shroud.  I  won't  have  a  hen's  feather  bed  in  the  house,  Ru- 
b'my ;"  she  presently  added,  "  they're  so  soggy-like ;  it's 
'nough  to  beat  one  all  out  to  stir  em'  up  ev'ry  day.  I  tried 
that  once,  when  I  took  care  of  Aunt  Chloe,  and  I  got  tuck- 
ered out  pnrty  soon." 

I   expected  to  hear  Aunt  Chloe's  history,  and  as  that 


RUBINA.  123 

would  doubtless  suggest  others,  I  anticipated  an  utterly 
sleepless  night,  but,  fortunately,  Miss  Roby  had  talked  herself 
into  a  sleepy  mood,  and,  pausing  a  little  too  long  after  this 
last  sentence,  some  slumbrous  weight  obscured  these  memo- 
ries, and,  clipping  the  tangled  thread  of  narrative,  left  grate- 
ful silence. 

What  a  kindly  magic  lurks  in  sunshine's  potent  ray ! 
Though  I  slept  uneasily,  and  woke  early — a  fitful  start,  from 
direful  dreams;  though  I  hastily  covered  my  poor  silly  head 
with  the  heavy  bed-clothes,  hushing  my  respiration,  to  listen 
anxiously  for  sound  from  above,  denoting — I  knew  not  what 
dreadful  apparition — yet,  with  night's  sombreness  fled  like- 
wise the  tormenting  host.  A  coward's  evanescent  courage 
returned  with  the  first  stray  gleam  of  dawn,  peeping  at  me 
from  under  the  white  cotton  curtain's  edge ;  its  broadening 
smile  routed  aught  of  a  timorous  nature,  and  scattered  it 
beyond  recall.  I  dared  lift  my  flushed  face  from  its  burial 
in  the  smothering  pillows.  I  counted  Miss  Roby's  antique 
garniture  on  their  lofty  pegs.  I  surveyed  curiously  the 
wondrous  wall-paper,  of  wreathed  bunches  of  scarlet-leaved 
poppies,  alternating  in  rows,  with  strutting  peacocks,  elate — 
mortal  like — with  an  empty-headed  estimate  of  their  own 
shallow  importance  and  social  magnitude.  From  the  ceiling 
they  likewise  lifted  their  heads,  and  spread  their  gorgeous 
tails,  the  poppies  blooming  most  naturally  on  the  same  soil- 
less heights.  Miss  Roby  suddenly  stirred ;  awoke.  "  Bless 
me  !"  she  ejaculated,  rubbing  open  her  eyes,  and  viewing  me 
rather  surprisedly.  "Do  tell  if  your  peepers  are  open 
a'ready  !  I  guess  I  kinder  overstep**  myself  this  mornin',"  she 
added  apologetically.  She  rose  with  alacrity.  "I  most 
forgot  to  ask  you  if  you  dreamt  anything  ?"  she  said  pres- 
ently; "cause,  you  know  what  you  dream  in  a  strange 


124  BUBINA. 

room  '11  surely  come  to  pass — least-ways  the  dream-book 
says  so." 

•  "I  hope  not!"  I  exclaimed,  shuddering;  "do  you  believe 
in  dreams,  Miss  Roby  ?" 

She  paused'  in  the  act  of  inserting  a  leg  in  a  blue  woollen 
stocking,  and  eyed  me  curiously.  "Twant  pleasant  then,  I 
take  it !"  she  slowly  answered.  "  Dreams  allers  go  by  con- 
traries; if  you  dream  of  a  funeral,  it's  a  sure  sign  of  a  weddin', 
and  you  can  most  gin'rally  tell  right  off  whose  t'will  be. 
There's  Ira  Purse  now  's  been  steppin'  up  to  your  cousin 
'Maudy  long  enough  for't  to  end  in  one.  I  like  to  dream 
too  o'  clear  water,  it's  a  good  sign ;  muddy  water  's  a  sure 
sign  o'  trouble,  and  a  white  horse  bodes  death ;  but  law !" 
she  hurriedly  added,  as  if  ashamed  to  know  even  any  thing 
of  this  mystic  lore,  "  I  never  laid  up  nothin'  long  I  dreamed 
of;  no  dependence  to  be  put  on 'era,  you  know." 

"  Then  you  don't  believe  in  them,"  I  pertinaciously  said. 

"  Wall,  no  !  I  don  know  as  I  do,"  she  answered  doubtfully, 
and  resuming  her  toilette,  "  though  folks  do  have  proper 
cur'ous  notions  in  'em  sometimes ;  and  it  beats  all,  how  real 
they  be.  Now  there's  a  house  I  go  to — in  a  dream — ev'ry 
little  while.  I  never  saw  one  a  bit  like  it  anywheres  else ; 
but  I've  got  so  's  I  know  ev'ry  door  and  winder,  and  the 
rooms  look  as  nat'ral  as  life." 

"  Do  you  see  any  people  in  them  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  Wall,  now,  that's  the  strangest  part  of  the  hull,"  she 
answered  quickly,  "  sometimes  it's  as  still  and  lonesome  as 
a  tomb ;  furnitur  all  piled  up  ready  for  movin',  and  not  a 
'eoul  to  be  seen.  Then  agin,  there's  a  queer  couple  there — 
old  country  folks  I  should  think.  I  never  see  no  other  faces 
but  them  two.  The  woman  don't  wear  a  dress  like  our'n ; 
it's  short,  and  a  frill  round  the  waist  (and  that  is  blue  stuff) 


EUBINA.  125 

with  a  peaked  bodice,  and  it's  despit  low  in  the  neck :  I 
wanted  to  take  holt,  and  give  it  a  yank  where  it  oughter  go, 
at  first — the  good-for-nothin'  trollop— but  I  got  used  to  it 
arter  a  few  times — 'specially  as  I  found  out  she's  a  married 
woman.  She's  cumely  'nough,  too,  Rubiny ;  but  there's  an 
evil  look  on  her  face,  and  she  watches  her  man  proper  close. 
He  is  dark  complected,  with  snappin'  black  eyes,  and  the 
whitest  teeth  I  ever  see ;  long  and  sharp,  as  I  can  make  out 
when  he  smiles — I  should'nt  wonder  now,  Rubiny — "  con- 
tinued Miss  Roby,  leaning  forward,  and  whispering  impres- 
sively, "  if  he'd  been  a  man-eater  once." 

"  Oh  no  !  Miss  Roby,"  said  I,  a  trifle  shocked.  "  That 
can't  be,  you  know." 

"  Wall,"  she  said — her  imaginative  faculties  at  once  sub- 
siding into  their  ordinary  calm — '"tant  real,  you  know, 
only  seems  so."  She  picked  up  her  leathern  shoe,  turned 
it  over,  and  zealously  blew  out  the  dust. 

"  Miss  Roby,"  I  said  eagerly,  "  I  went  there  last  night. 
I  know  it's  the  very  same  house ;  the  woman  looked  as  you 
say,  but — " 

"But  what,  child?"  she  said,'  smiling  incredulously. 

I  felt  myself  turn  pale.  "  Oh  !  you  won't  believe  it,"  I 
cried,  "  but  let  me  tell  you  what  I  saw  there." 

''  Sartain,"  assented  Miss  Roby. 

"  I  saw  that  woman  walk  the  house  from  top  to  bottom, 
over  and  over  again,  and  finally  go  to  the  open  kitchen  door 
and  stand  a  long,  long  time  gazing  down  the  dusty  road.  I, 
too,  went,  and  peeped  over  her  shoulder,  but  she  did  not  see 
me.  At  first  I  saw  nothing ;  but,  away  off,  I  heard  the  faint 
rumble  of  wheels.  They  came  in  sight  presently — a  white 
horse  drawing  a  red  lumber  wagon,  in  which  sat  a  man, 
driving.  He  was  singing,  too,  as  he  drew  up  across  the 


126  BUBINA. 

road,  in  front  of  the  barn  door — a  song  in  a  strange  tongue ; 
I  could  not  make  out  the  words,  but  the  voice  was  sweet 
and  powerful.  He  sprang  out,  and  began  unharnessing  the 
horse.  As  he  turned  his  back  full  upon  us,  I  heard  a  sound 
behind  me,  which  made  me  suddenly  turn.  There  stood 
that  same  woman — her  eyes  ablaze  with  fury — holding  in 
one  hand  a  pistol,  which  was  smoking  and  snapping,  as  if 
it  longed  to  go  off.  I  thought  she  was  going  to  kill  me, 
and  started  back,  almost  dead  with  fright.  She  never  noticed 
me  at  all.  She  stood  a  moment  in  the  door ;  I  heard  her 
mutter  something  as  she  raised  the  weapon  at  the  man 
opposite,  and  fired — not  once,  but  a  hundred  times.  It 
seemed  as  if  she  would  never  stop.  Even  after  she  had  flung 
it  down — as  if  it  burned  her  hand — it  kept  on  firing.  Then 
she  hastily  picked  it  up,  ran  to  the  well,  and  dropped  it  in ; 
but  it  never  ceased  firing,  and  it  gurgled,  as  if  a  human 
being  was  drowning." 

"  Did  you  see  anything  else  ?"  queried  Miss  Roby,  with  a 
knowing  nod. 

"  Yes  !  the  man  staggered  to  the  open  door,  and  leaned 
against  the  post.  The  woman  came  up  to  him  quietly,  with 
a  satisfied  look  on  her  face,  as  though  she  had  at  last  accom- 
plished a  long-waited-for  deed.  He  spoke  to  her  mildlv. 
She  fiercely  shook  her  head.  I  did  not  understand  the 
words,  but  I  could  feel  what  they  were  saying.  He  told  her 
she  would  gain  nothing ;  she  would  yet  swing  for  it.  She 
replied  that  she  would  first  cut  her  own  throat ;  and,  walk- 
ing coolly  away  to  the  stove,  she  stirred  a  kettle  of  porridge. 
The  man  turned  white  as  death.  I  ran  and  brought  from  a 
little  bedroom  its  bed ;  I  spread  it  on  the  kitchen  floor.  I 
got  some  pillows.  The  woman  never  «nv  me  ;  she  still 
stirred  the  porridge  ;  but  the  man  smiled  into  my  face  most 


RUBINA.  127 

gratefully.  He  laid  himself  down  ;  I  covered  him  with  a 
sheet." 

"  What  then  ?"  asked  Miss  Roby,  eagerly. 

"  Oh  !  then  I  awoke,  cold,  uncomfortable,  and  very  much 
frightened,"  I  answered. 

"  Wall,  child,"  said  Miss  Roby,  solemnly,  "I've  seen  that 
are,  all  acted  out  jest  so.  I  couldn't  a  described  it"  better 
myself;  and  I've  seen  more  too.  You  woke  too  'arly ; 
but,"  she  added,  after  a  thoughtful  pause,  "  it's  clear  beyond 
my  reckonin'  how  you  should  see  it  too  ;  I  never  tell  no  one 
my  dreams.  I'm  'fraid,  child;  we  none  on  us  knows  too  much 
'bout  this  ere  life  of  ourn.  It's  a  proper  strange  thing,  at 
the  best  on't,"  she  said,  as  we  descended  the  winding  stairs, 
and  entered  the  kitchen. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Miss  SINAI  was  busy  with  breakfast.  The  coffee  steamed 
fragrantly  from  the  quaint  Britannia  urn,  surrounded  by  a 
colony  of  pink  and  white  cups  and  saucers ;  in  each  shallow 
cup  rested  a  tiny  silver  spoon — the  handle  so  slender,  the 
bowl  so  diminutive,  that  it  might  well  have  been  an  heir- 
loom from  ancestral  fairies.  The  maidenly  initials  on  each 
shield-like  top  were,  with  nearly  a  century's  use,  almost  ob- 
literated ;  a  few  faint  whirls  of  tracery  remained,  ornamented 
along  their  lines  with  numberless  dots,  in  which  "  M.  S.  W." 
were  almost  lost  sight  of.  These,  my  hostess  signified  with 
gentle  pride,  were  the  former  property  of  one  Mary  Sinai 
Wade,  her  great-grandmother,  for  whom,  in  part,  she  was 
named. 


128  EUBINA. 

The  pewter  platter  this  morning  supported  luscious  slices 
of  smoked  ham,  with  eggs  surrounding  its  marge ;  and  a 
"Johnny  cake"  was  nearing  the  perfection  of  browuness  on 
a  shingle  before  the  fire.  Uncle  Jesse  entered,  with  a  pail 
of  sap  from  the  maple  grove,  to  use  in  our  coffee,  in  lieu  of 
sugar.  ^  He  gave  me  a  pleasant  nod  and  smile,  then  stopped 
short.  "  Seems  to  me  you  look  ruther  pinipin'  this  mornin'," 
he  said  kindly  ;  "  guess  you  didn't  sleep  the  best  kind,  did 
you,  Miss  Brooks  ?" 

"  Miss  Brooks,  indeed  !"  chimed  in  Miss  Sinai,  quickly  ; 
"and  .that  puts  me  in  mind,  Ruby,  .that  you  are  just  to  call 
me  Sinai  in  future.  I  am  missed  enough  by  other  people." 
("/  can't  afford  to  miss  her ;  I  think  too  much  of  her," 
laughed  her  brother ;)  "  unless,"  interrupted  she,  "  you 
choose  to  adopt  the  sisterly  prefix, .  like  the  rest  of  us.  I 
mean  to  be  your  sister,  Ruby." 

I  could  only  pass  my  arm  round  her  neck  in  a  close  ca- 
ress at  this  proof  of  kindness  to  a  stranger,  an  orphan  and — 
Miss  Roby's  story  would  unwelcomely  thrust  its  visage  be- 
fore me.  Sinai  stooped  to  inspect  my  face.  "  Oh  !  /  know 
what  the  matter  is."  She  darted  a  questioning  look  at  her 
sister  Roby,  who  innocently  returned  the  glance.  "  I  see  it 
plainly.  I  was  afraid  she'd  talk  the  child  to  death.  Sister 
Roby  never  knows  when  to  stop  when  she's  once  on  a  story- 
telling track."  This  she  whispered  to  her  brother,  and  he 
good-naturedly  retorted  :  "  Wall,  you  know  'twont  answer 
to  put  out  sister  Roby,  and  she  can  steal  a  nap  this  fore- 
noon to  make  it  up." 

The  day  sped  delightfully.  I  visited  the  woods,  where 
the  sap  was  slowly  gathering  for  the  sugar-making.  From 
massive  trunks  of  maples,  hoary  with  age,  and  garnished 
with  many  a  scar,  down  slender  wooden  channels,  the  sweet 


RUBINA.  129 

liquid  dropped  musically  into  waiting  pails,  bowls,  pans  of 
tin,  and  from  these  was  emptied  into  a  huge  caldron,  which 
smoked  and  steamed  over  a  blazing  fire  of  fragrant  pine 
knots.  Uncle  Jesse  superintended  it.  "  It's  commenced 
to  run  putty  bravely,  I  tell  you,  Ruby,  for  this  time  o' 
year,"  he  observed  in  the  pauses  of  his  labor.  "  This  ere 
thaw  is  jest  the  right  thing  to  help  it  along  :  freeze  nights 
and  thaw  days  is  what  we  want." 

"  Shall  you  make  much  ?"  I  queried  innocently.  He 
struck  the  seamed  trunk  of  the  nearest  tree  with  his  horny 
palm. 

"  Can't  tell,  you  see.  All  depends  on  this  ere.  I 
shouldn't  wonder  ef  we  did"  he  said,  with  a  knowing  twin- 
kle in  his  keen  eyes.  "  One  year  we  fetched  'bout  five  hun- 
dered  weight ;  that's  putty  fair  for  a  small  grove." 

"  Isn't  that  nearly  done  ?"  I  pointed  to  the  boiling  mass. 

He  laughed.  "  I  guess  you  hanker  arter  some  on't. 
Wall,  when  it's  ready  to  sugar  off  I'll  call  you,  and  show  ye 
how  to  eat  it ;  don't  one  in  fifty  know  how  /" 

He  kept  his  word,  some  hours  later.  Rolling  a  ball  of 
snow,  he  dipped  it  in  the  cooling  sugar,  and  placed  it  before 
me.  "  There,  Ruby,  that's  good  for  sore  mouth,"  he  said, 
artlessly,  Avatching  me;  "take  right  holt  now,  as  though 
you  meant  it." 

Towards  sunset  I  returned  to  the  charmed  exile  of  poor 
Crusoe.  I  vented  a,  ludicrous  sigh  as  I  finished,  and  restored 
the  volume  to  its  musty  nook  in  the  desk,  at  which  Sinai 
bit  her  lip,  to  repress  a  smile.  I  watched  her,  as  she  worked, 
in  the  bright  fire-light.  The  shining  rods  flew  in  and  out  of 
the  smooth,  firm  texture— clinking  faintly  against  each  other 
a  sort  of  tune  to  tlio  monotonous  flow  of  voices.  Insensibly, 
drowsiness  assailed  me,  but  I  indignantly  warded  it  off,  feet- 
6* 


130  RUBINA. 

ing  my  dignity  in  some  degree  imperilled  if  I  should  be 
caught  napping  before  my  wide-awake  seniors — that  tena- 
cious dignity  of  a  dozen  years,  which  tries,  so  ludicrously  to 
beholders,  to  suppress  the  ways  of  childhood  and  to  ape  the 
ways  of  womanhood.  I  opened  my  eyes  unnaturally  wide, 
and  rubbed  them  vigorously  with  the  back  of  my  hand,  as  I 
thought,  quite  unobserved.  Another  childish  delusion.  At 
the  third  repetition  of  this  involuntary  pantomime,  Miss 
Sinai  surprised  the  unwary  sentinel.  I  was  vanquished  in 
my  own  citadel.  Almost,  without  knowing  how  or  whither, 
I  found  myself  tucked  warmly  into  Miss  Zilpha's  high  bed, 
in  a  cosy  room,  on  the  first  floor.  Sinai  bent  over  and  kiss- 
ed me.  "  It's  too  bad,"  she  said  warmly,  "  going  from  pil- 
lar to  post,  in  this  fashion.  I  wanted  you,  but  sister  said  it 
was  her  turn  ;  but  after  to-night — "  and  she  nodded  her 
head  smilingly.  "  I  shall  charge  her  not  to  waken  you,"  she 
added,  as  she  drew  a  shawl  around  her  shoulders,  seated 
herself  by  my  side,  and  softly  knitted  away,  gazing  at  me 
meanwhile  with  good-humored  fondness.  My  memory  thus 
confusedly  sketched  her,  ere  it  closed  its  portfolio  for  a 
dreamy  ramble.  I  did  not  like  Miss  Zilpha.  Her  sisters' — 
Sinai  and  Charity — pleasant  attributes  only  rendered  more 
conspicuous  her  lack  thereof,  amounting  even  to  deformity. 
Even  Miss  Koby,  gruff,  uncouth,  plain,  and  shy,  was  thor- 
oughly kind-hearted.  Not  willingly  would  she  have 
wronged  a  fly  of  its  inheritance.  Her  character  had  a  ma- 
licious aspect  sometimes,  but  subse-quent  actions  always 
proved  it  to  have  been  only  surface  deep.  She  scorned 
hypocrisy  ;  she  never  feigned  a  friendship  she  could  not 
feel.  Miss  Zilpha  was  both  plain  and  shy,  with  an  unseason- 
able addition  of  selfishness,  showing  its  face  constantly  in 
little  things ;  conceit  of  her  own  mighty  self,  and  intense 


RUBLNA.  131 

love  for  fault-finding  and  slander;  she  had  other  points 
scarcely  more  precious,  but  these  shone  in  a  prominent 
light.  Miss  Roby  revelled  in  gossip  of  former  days  ;  but  she 
never  deliberately  sat  down  to  devise  evil  prophecies  regard- 
ing her  neighbors,  to  dart  groundless  insinuations  into  the 
fairest  lives.  Miss  Zilpha  frequently  smote  thus,  with  mer- 
ciless zeal,  merely  because  her  nature  was  too  warped  to 
view  the  sunniest  aspect  of  sayings  and  occurrences.  She 
had  a  hard,  stony  look  in  her  inflamed  eyes,  which  her  spec- 
tacles transformed  into  a  species  of  sly  cunning,  not  a  whit 
more  agreeable.  This  evening  she  entered  her  room,  cau- 
tiously, I  suppose,  for  I  did  not  hear  her.  Why,  then,  did 
she  approach  the  flame  of  the  light  she  carried  so  close  to 
my  face,  that  its  warmth,  mingled  with  her  fetid  breath, 
smote  me  into  wakefulness  ?  If  that  was  her  intention,  she 
accomplished  it  admirably.  However,  I  purposely  kept  my 
lids  closed,  and  as  she  turned  from  her  survey  I  peeped 
from  {hem  covertly.  She  trod  on  tiptoe  across  the  room,  in 
a  short,  quick  manner,  making  thrice  the  noise  of  her  usual 
footfall.  She  opened  her  closet  door,  and  gave  a  searching 
glance  round  its  narrow  interior,  then  under  the  valanced 
bed.  Her  maidenly  nerves  thus  reassured,  she  opened  the 
door  into  the  hall,  and  peefed  cautiously  down  its  dark 
space  ;  afterwards  closing,  and  placing  a  chair-back  against  it 
— a  truly  formidable  barrier.  I  thought  she  never  would 
have  done  with  her  nocturnal  preparations,  useless  as  they 
were ;  and  she  crowned  them  all  by  hanging  a  shoe  on 
each  tall  bedpost,  as  a  surety  for  pleasant  dreams.  No!  she 
had  not  yet  finished.  She  knelt  at  the  bed's  foot,  for  a 
short  silent  prayer. 

Trifles  touch  us  in  early  years  sooner  than  a  miracle  in 
later.     The  heart  ossifies  its  emotions  with  growing  knowl- 


132  RUBINA. 

edge  and  experience.  That  mute,  humble  posture  of  the 
gray  old  woman  woke  in  me  a  momentary  thrill  of  pity  for 
her  infirmities,  and  of  respect  for  the  piety  which  it  seems 
her  breast  harbored,  as  well  as  others,  more  worldly  favored. 
This  transient  solemnity  was  completely  dissipated  by  her 
subsequent  action.  "  Prayers  first,  snuff  afterwards,"  I  ir- 
reverently muttered,  as  I  watched  the  pungent  incense,  in 
mammoth  pinches,  rise  to  and  disappear  devoutly  within  its 
fore-ordained  receptacle.  She  enjoyed  it  with  relishing 
sighs,  after  which  she  shoved  the  box  under  her  pillow, 
placed  a  clove  in  her  mouth,  mounted  cautiously  the  creak- 
ing couch,  and,  in  a  iew  moments,  was  sound  asleep. 

I  lay,  dreamily  pondering  many  things ;  curious  vestiges 
of  impossibilities,  which  will  flit  vagrantly  through  imma- 
ture brains,  and  depart  as  speedily  to  make  room  for  their 
successors.  As  I  gazed  at  the  suspended  shoes  on  the  bed- 
posts, to  my  astonishment,  their  owner  calmly  arose,  tied 
them  on,  seized  the  unlit  candle,  and — displacing  the  guard- 
ing chair — opened  the  door.  "  Where  are  you  going  ?"  I 
cried  in  dismay.  She  gave  no  heed,  nor  even  appeared  to 
hear  me.  I  spoke  once  more  ;  but  she  was  now  out  of  both 
sight  and  hearing.-  "  Very  likely  she  has  forgotten  some- 
thing she  will  need  in  the  morning,  and  has  gone  to  seek 
it,"  I  reasoned ;  but  I  thought  it  extremely  odd  that  she 
did  not  light  the  candle.  Noiselessly  as  she  went,  she  re- 
turned, after  a  short  absence,  empty-handed  of  aught  save 
the  iron  candlestick.  This  she  deposited  on  exactly  the 
same  spot  it  stood  before ;  she  hung  the  shoes  again  in  their 
former  position,  and  crept  into  bed.  If  she  slumbered,  it 
was  in  the  strangest  form  of  this  refreshing  unconsciousness. 
A  shimmer  of  starlight  stole  through  the  uncurtained  win- 
dows,— a  weak  solution  indeed — just  sufficient  to  dispel  utter 


BUBINA.  133 

gloom,  and  enable  me  to  define  certain  objects.  It  showed 
me  Miss  Zilpha's  face;  always  colorless,  it  now  looked  of  the 
hue  of  death,  yellow  and  ghastly.  Her  eyes  were  opened 
wide,  but  she  respired  regularly.  Presently  she  threw  her 
hands  up  over  her  head,  with  an  uneasy  motion,  and  they 
remained  close  locked  together.  Her  parted  lips  emitted  a 
moan,  as  of  a  sufferer  in  some  deadly  peril.  She  straight- 
ened her  limbs,  and  they  remained  so ;  the  muscles  tense 
and  rigid.  Always  repulsive,  she  now  looked  doubly  abhor- 
rent. I  summoned  enough  courage,  however,  to  endeavor 
to  waken  her,  which  seemed  at  first  an  impossible  task.  I 
shook  her  with  all  my  strength,  but  it  barely  sufficed  to  turn 
her  on  one  side,  only,  afterwards,  to  roll  back  like  a  log. 
This  I  thrice  repeated;  then  I  drew  down  her  hands.  They 
were  cold  as  ice,  and  almost  as  hard.  I  vigorously  con- 
quered my  loathing,  and  chafed  them  until  my  own  fingers 
ached  ;  she  did  not  arouse,  and  she  moaned  still  louder.  I 
remember  feeling  a  vague  fear  that  she  might  be  dying.  I 
had  heard  and  read  of  people  being  stricken  as  suddenly, 
and  with  this  fear  came  also  a  thought  of  my  own  responsi- 
bility. I  endeavored  to  pluck  up  a  little  needful  spirit,  to 
summon  help,  ere  it  prove  too  late.  "  Perhaps  it  already 
is,"  I  whispered  nervously,  as  I  sprang  to  the  floor,  and 
made  a  desperate  grasp  at  the  candle.  Then,  either  the 
coldness  of  the  painted,  carpetless  floor,  or  my  own  cow- 
ardice, struck  such  a  chill  upon  my  unusual  courage,  that  it 
all  exhaled,  and — still  holding  aloft  the  iron  candlestick,  as 
a  trophy  of  my  hardihood — I  sprang  again  amid  the  sheets. 
"  Miss  Zilpha,"  I  cried  bitterly,  repeating  and  prolonging  it, 
which  she  did  not  heed,  and  I  had  no  hope  of  its  reaching 
other  ears,  so  many  rooms  intervening.  Alas  !  I  lacked  the 
simple  fortitude  to  slfp  hastily  across  those  rooms,  and  sum- 


134:  RUBINA. 

mon  her  brother,  whose  room  was  adjoining  the  invalid's ; 
so  I  fell  to  shaking  more  energetically  than  before ;  one 
more  vigorous  roll  than  the  others  sent  her  beyond  my  con- 
trol, and  over  she  tumbled  to  the  hard,  cold  floor.  I  was 
both  relieved  and  frightened  at  this  unexpected  ^result ; 
frightened  at  first,  but  relieved  when  I  saw  her  move  feebly, 
then  hastily  rise,  and  rub  her  eyes  in  bewilderment.  I  drew 
a  long  breath  ;  "Oh !  I  am  so  glad,"  I  cried,  as  she  stared, 
first  at  the  bed,  then  at  the  floor. 

"  Massy  to  me  !  how'd  I  come  here  ?"  she  asked,  pres- 
ently resuming  her  rightful  quarters. 

"  I  pushed  you  out,"  I  replied. 

"  You  did,  hey  ?"  she  said  severely.  "  And  what  for,  pray 
tell  ?  It's  mor'n  half  to  own  it ;  that's  a  fact." 

"  Dear  me  !  Miss  Zilpha,"  I  said  hastily,  "  you  acted  so 
strangely.  I  thought  you  were  dying.  I  spoke  to  you,  then 
I  shook  you,  and  I  suppose  I  pushed  a  trifle  too  hard." 

"  Oh  !"  She  seemed  relieved.  "  I  s'pose  I  had  the  night- 
mare. It  takes  me  powerful  hard  sometimes  ;  seems  so  I's 
bound  hand  and  foot,  and  couldn't  stir  for  the  life  of  me  • 
sometimes  I  look  up  and  see  a  lot  of  wild  critturs  all  ready 
to  spring  at  me,  and  I  can't  git  out  the  way,  nor  holler,  nor 
nothin' ;  and  sometimes  it's  a  crazy  man  on  the  tight  run 
arter  me,  with  a  hatchet ;  and  sometimes  I'm  a  goin'  like  a 
perfect  harrycane ;  sometimes  it's  one  consate  and  some- 
times a'nuther." 

"  But  you  moaned,  as  if  you  were  sick,"  I  said.  She  looked 
surprised. 

"  Did  I  ?  I  didn't  know's  I  made  no  sound.  I'm  glad  you 
woke  me  out  oft,  child,  though  I  'spect  I'll  be  black  and  blue 
to  pay  for  that  are  jounce.  Sister  Delia  used  to  tell  me,  too," 
she  went  on,  "  that  I  walked  in  my  sleep,  but  I  allers  thought 


EUBINA.  135 

that  t'was  some  o'  her  gammon.     I  never  remember  cuttin' 
up  any  sekh  capers,"  she  added  confidentially. 

I  told  her  of  her  walk  this  night.  She  laughed  incredu- 
lously. "  I  guess  you  made  that  are  up  out  o'  whole  cloth," 
she  ironically  retorted.  "  We'll  see,  now,  if  everything  ain't 
jest's  T  left  it,  to-morrow  mornin' ;  and  't wouldn't  be,  you 
know,  if  T.did  as  you  say."  She  spoke  positively,  and  I  had 
no  desire  to  contradict.  "  This  tellin'  fibs  is  a  dreadful  bad 
practice,"  she  resumed,  severely,  "  leads  to  the  gallers  in  the 
end.  Strange,  now,  how  some  folks'll  put  up  with  sech 
things  !  I've  seen  them  that  thought  'twas  all  good  milk  por- 
ridge ;  but  if /had  children,  I'd  whip  it  out  of  'em  if  there  was 
a  possibility  I  could." 

I  knew  she  was  alluding  to  me,  and  I  felt  indignant  at  her 
base  suspicions.  I  abhorred  and  dreaded  a  falsehood  more 
than  the  whole  catalogue  of  other  sins.  There  is  something 
so  mean,  so  abject,  in  the  countenance  of  a  liar ;  it  singles 
him  out  at  once  from  the  rest  of  mankind,  and  proclaims, 
him  decent  only  in  solitude ;  fit  for  no  other  office  than  to 
serve  as  a  world's  opprobrious  football ;  and  were  their  pal- 
try bodies  as  elastic  as  their  consciences,  they  would  outlast, 
in  this  menial  capacity,  scores  of  generations. 

"  Be  you  a  Christian  ?"  resumed  my  judge,  "  'cause  I  think 
it's  high  time  you  was  a  thinkin'  on  sech  matters,  and  '  layin' 
up  treasure  in  heaven,  where  neither  moth  nor  rust  doth  cor- 
rupt, and  where  thieves  do  not  break  through  and  steal.' 
That  are's  a  mighty  solemn  question,  child !" 
,  I  felt  a  little  sulky,  and  would  not  answer.  She  went  on : 
'  "  Now,  I  used  to  have  sister  Siny  sleep  with  me  when  she 
was  a  little  gal,  I  used  to  be  pestered  in  them  days  'bout 
sleepin',  and  I'd  wake  up  Siny,  and  larn  her  the  beautifulest 
hymns.  She'd  rouse  right  up,  too,  the  minute  I  wanted  her 


136  KUBINA. 

to,  and  say  'em  all  over  as  nice  as  ever  you  see.  I  remember 
one  went  like  this — 'twas  mother's  favorite."  She  struck  up 
in  a  doleful  key  the  following: 

"  '  There  is  a  flower,  a  holy  one ;  it  blossoms  in  my  path, 
It  needs  no  dew  or  daily  sun ;  nor  falling  showers  it  hath ; 
It  blooms  as  brightly  in  the  storm,  as  on  a  cloudless  day; 
It  rears  on  high  its  humble  form,  when  others  fade  &way ; 
When  others  fade  away,  when  others  fa-ade  a- way.' 

"  Know  what  that  is,  Ruby  ?  Wall,  listen  now ;  the  next 
varse'll  tell  you : 

"  'That  plant  is  Faith;   its  holy  leaves,  reviving  odors  shed 
Upon  the  lonely  place  of  grief,  er  mansions  of  thee  dead ; 
God  is  its  sun,  its  livin'  light;   an  happy  hour  he  lends, 
When  silently  in  sorrer's  night,  religion's  dew  de-cends, 
Religion's  de-ew  de-cends;  reli-gi-on's  dew  de-cends.' 

"  Sister  Siny  was  the  best  behaved  little  gal  ever  you  see ; 
*you  don't  come  across  no  sech  now-a-days.  When  /  was 
young,  children  didn't  know  more'n  everybody  else ;  they're 
sassy  'nough  how,  goodness  knows.  My  mother  used  to 
tell  me  '  children  must  be  seen  and  not  heard  !'  and  I  was 
fool  'nough  to  believe  it.  I  used  to  take  Siny  out  with  me, 
when  I  went  neighborin' ;  I'd  put- her  in  a  chair,  and  tell  her 
she  mustn't  stir.  Law  !  she'd  no  more  think  o'  gettin'  up 
than  as  though  she  wan't  made.  She's  a  dreadful  cunnin'  lit- 
tle thing.  I  remember  once,  I  had  to  go  over  to  the  pond  for 
a  pail  o'  water — our  cistern  was  dry — there  wan't  no  one  iu 
the  house,  as  it  happened,  but  just  us  two,  and  I  couldn't  be 
bothered  with  her  a  taggin'  along ;  she  wan't  but  four  year 
old ;  so  I  set  her  up  in  the  high  chair,  and  told  her  to  fold 
her  hands ;  now,  says  I,  do  you  set  there  till  I  come  back  ; 
if  you  don't,  I'll  cut  ye  in  two.  Wall,  I  asked  if  she'-d 


RUBINA.  137 

minded  me,  when  I  come  back  ?  '  Oh,'  says  she,  as  pert  as 
ye  please,  '  some  one  knocked,  and  I  jumped  down  and 
opened  the  door.  It  was  lame  Joyce,  the  peddler,  and  he 
took  me  up  and  kissed  me,  aud  set  me  up  in  my  chair,  and 
gave  me  this  little  tin  cup  !'  " 

"  Annah  would  have  been  dancing  around  the  room,"  I 
said. 

"  Most  likely,"  she  assented.  "  She's  a  good-natured  little 
thing,  when  you've  done  set  all,  but  a  reg'lar  fly-away;  she 
wants  holdin'  in.  Sister  Siny  was  one  of  a  thousand  though. 
Let  me  see,"  she  mused,  "  what  was't  I  was  goin'  to  say?  it's 
slipt  my  mind'intirely.  Oh  !"  catching  a  clue,  "  I  was  goin' to 
tell  you  how  we'd  wake  up  in  the  night  and  count  over  names ; 
did  you  ever  do  it  ?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  Miss  Zilpha." 

"  Wall,  say  we  take  Maria  now  for  one,"  she  explained — 
"  you  mnst  think  over  all  you  know  In  town  by  that  name, 
and  I'll  keep  count.  There's  Maria  Reeve's  one,"  pro- 
nounced Miss  Zilpha,  "  and  Maria  Lovejoy's  two" — and  so  on, 
until  she  had  sifted  the  village  pretty  thoroughly  of  those 
bearing  that  interesting  cognomen.  Then  she  suggested  the 
Amandas,  and  afterwards  the  Albinas  and  Elizabeths — in- 
cluding the  abbreviation  Betsy — and  Charlottes;  also  a 
timid  census-taking  of  happily  unconscious  Davids,  Thom- 
ases and  Israels.  Miss  Zilpha's  old  heart  leaped  again  to 
the  tune  of  early  recollections.  Her  repulsive  frigidity 
thawed  more  and  more.  She  vouchsafed  towards  me  a  more 
condescending  familiarity,  relating  for  my  edification  num- 
berless anecdotes  of  her  sisters.  I  have  an  indistinct  remem-' 
brance,  too,  of  feeling  her  arm  inserting  itself  under  my 
heavy  head,  to  draw  me  in  closer  proximity  to  herself — an 
act  of  fondness  I  was  too  sleepy  to  repel,  and  which  I  was 


138  RUBINA. 

glad  of  afterwards,  if  it  gave  her  but  a  transitory  pleasure. 
In  my  dreams  our  late  intellectual  exercise  still  pursued  me. 
A  panorama  of  familiar  faces  glided  past  me ;  the  entire  vil- 
lage population  loomed  out  in  solid  phalanx;  blithe  lads  and 
merry  lasses,  the  blind,  the  sickly,  the  old  and  young,  bear- 
ing huge  placards  of  painted  names,  which  I  was  serenely 
counting. 


CHAPTER  XL 

ON  our  homeward  drive,  Uncle  Jesse  drew  from  his 
pocket  a  little  package,  neatly  folded  in  brown  paper  :  "This 
ere's  for  a  gal  called  Ruby  Brooks.  You  take  keer  oft,  and 
when  you  light  on  that  chick,  jest  toss  it  over  to  her." 

"A  book!"  I  cried  delightedly,  feeling  its  shape  through 
the  wrappings;  "how  good  of  you,  Uncle  Jesse !" 

"  Don't  know  nothin'  you're  sayin' !"  he  interrupted  ;  "  I 
ain't  noways  'countable  for  that  are.  Sister  Siny  slipped  it 
into  my  overcut  pocket,  jest's  we  come  out  of  the  porch,  and 
whispered  to  me  what  to  do  with't.  Now,  don't  go  to 
thankin'  on  her,  when  you  come  acrost  her ;  she  won't  like 
it.  Here!  you  may's  well  take  this  in  -with  you  too,  'n 
divide  it  all  round  the  board,"  and  the  good  soul  piled  in 
my  arms  a  huge  cake  of  maple  sugar. 

"  Oh  !  come  in,  Uncle  Jesse." 

"  I  guess  not !"  he  answered  doubtfully.  "  T'aint  egg- 
•zactly  friendly,  I  know,  to  sneak  away  agin  so,  but  I  see  the 
domine  in  there,  through  the  winder,  and  I  ain't  in  jest  the 
trim  to  scrape  a  'quaintance  with  him  ;  not  that  I  mean  to 
be  proud,"  he  added  quickly,  "  but  I  may's  well  be  trottin' 


RUBINA.  139 

back.  The  gals  feel  rather  peaked  to  stay  alone  long ;  so 
many  stragglers  round  about,  you  know,  and  Sister  Zilpha 
allers  was  a  spleeny  piece.  Good-bye  !"  he  repeated  kindly. 
"  Conie  'n  see  us  agin  afore  a  thousand  year — Hallo  there  ! 
leetle  frolicsome,"  he  suddenly  shouted,  as  Annah  came 
bounding  down  the  walk,  with  shouts  of  transport,  Demis 
following,  in  but  a  trifle  more  sedate  fashion,  and  Mark  bring- 
ing up  the  rear.  "You  think  you're  hull-footed  now,  I 
'spose,"  he  said  good-naturedly  to  the  merry  trio.  "Law! 
of  she  ain't  dancing  too.  Wall,  hum's  hum  arter  all  said 
and  done  ;  and  dance  away  young  creeturs  ;  frolic  to  your 
heart's  content,  'cause  you're  seein'  you're  happiest  days  now, 
and  you  don't  know  it."  He  checked  a  sigh,  which  action 
struck  us  in  a  fresh  mirthful  vein,  and  again  we  laughed. 

"  Bless  me  !  Uncle  Jesse,  I  like  to  stay  anywhere  else  bet- 
ter than  at  home.  Then  I  can  do  a  little  bit  as  I  like. 
Now,  its  'Demis  Dorothy  Martin'  (I  hate  middle  names, 
don't  you  ?)  '  I  should  think  you'd  be  ashamed  of  yourself — 
most  a  young  woman  grown.'  Law  me  !  what's  the  use  ?" 
continued  Demis,  peering  into  Uncle  Jesse's  puzzled  and 
amused  face,  then — very  unexpectedly  to  us — cutting  an  en- 
tirely original  "pigeon  wing"  right  in  the  face  of  the  win- 
dow. Two  pair  of  horrified  eyes  gleamed  from  it,  as  I  took 
a  hasty  survey.  The  sash  lifted  a  little.  "  Come  inter  the 
house  this  minute,  ef  you  can't  behave  yourself,"  screamed 
her  mother's  shrill  tones,  and  she  shut  it  with  a  bang. 

The  wheels  slowly  craunched  around,  making  deep  ruts 
in  the  spongy  soil. 

"  I  should  like  to  bury  my  perplexed  cranium  in  your 
garret,  Mr.  Warner,  for — well,  say  a  week  or  two,"  said 
Mark,  rather  gloomily.  He  commenced  whistling  to  the 
impatient  grays.  "  That's  a  nice  bit  of  horse-flesh,"  he 


140  RUBINA. 

added,  more  cheerfully.  Uncle  Jesse,  in  turn,  eyed  him 
sharply. 

"  I  guess  you'd  be  sick  o'  your  bargain  -in  less'n  half  that 
time,  my  lad,"  he  put  forth  slowly;  "them  quarters  was 
gin  over  t'the  rats  and  rubbish — to  say  nothin'  of  spooks 
and  spiders ;  great  black  fellers' s  big's  my  fist — 'fore  even 
you  come  along.  Now,  my  boy,"  he  mused  audibly, 
"  what's  to  pay,  I  wonder  ?  traces  broke,  eh  ?  out  o'  joint  a 
peg?  don't  hitch,  mabbe,  with  strangers.  I've  heered  mother 
tell  the  gals,  oceans  of  times,  that  '  too  many  cooks  spile  the 
broth ;'  I  guess  there's  a  good  deal  in't  too,"  he  added,  in 
the  lowest  of  cautious  voices,  with  sundry  covert  winks,  for 
Mark's  enlightenment.  I  threw  Mark  an  astonished  glance. 
A  moment  since  he  had  been  merry  as  a  lark.  I  could  not 
comprehend  the  sudden  change  to  the  extreme  of  soberness. 
Mr.  Warner  leaned  his  fat  elbows  on  his  fat  knees,  and 
seemed  lost  in  thought,  as  he  leisurely  tapped  the  end  of  his 
riding-whip  against  his  yellow  teeth.  He  evidently  ex- 
pected some  answer  to  his  numerous  surmises.  Mark 
smiled  in  the  dear  old  man's  kind  face ;  gave  a  comical 
twist  of  Ms  mouth,  and  said — nothing. 

"  Wall,  wall !"  observed  Mr.  Warner,  carefully  gathering 
up  the  reins,  and  turning  in  his  seat  to  give  a  scrutinizing 
look  at  an  approaching  team,  "  that  must  be  the  deacon's 
pacer,"  he  soliloquized  softly,  "by  the  way  it  siddle's  along; 
I'll  have  to  jog  on,  'cause  he  can't  turn  out  here.  I  was  goin' 
to  say,"  he  added  earnestly  to  Mark,  "  that  the  old  home- 
stead's allers  to  hum.  Come  up  any  time.  You  can  lodge 
in  any  room  you  take  a  notion  to,  and,  furthermore,  I'll  give 
you  as  much  maple-sweet  as  you  can  lay  your  jaws  to." 
He  drove  off,  softly  humming  the  first  bar  of  "  Old  Hun- 
dred." Mark  slowly  strolled  up  the  opposite  hill. 


RUBINA.  141 

"  Dear  me  !"  whispered  Demis,  with  a  comical  little  sigh, 
as  we  stepped  on  the  broad  piazza.  "Such  a  time  as  we've 
had,  Ruby  ?  I  wish  the  new  elder,  that  they  made  such  a 
fuss  over,  was  in  Bungay.  Mark  called  him  a  lunk-head  last 
night  to  mother,  and  she  was  so  mad."  She  pinched  my 
arm  to  enjoin  silence,  as  I  was  about  to  answer,  for  the  door 
opened,  and  her  mother's  face  looked  out,  fairly  purple  with 
suppressed  wrath.  She  darted  me  a  scornful  look.  "  Why 
don't  you  come  in  the  house  ?"  she  asked  sharply,  "  instid  of 
hangin'  out  round  it,  like  a  sneak.  Nobody  won't  harm 
you,  I  guess  not,  if  you  don't  give  'em  occasion,"  she  fin- 
ished, sarcastically.  Certainly  this  was  not  the  greeting  I 
had  been  picturing  to  myself,  the  livelong  day.  More  than 
passive  kindness  I  never  looked  for,  at  any  time,  from  my 
undemonstrative  relative  ;  but  this  thrust  was  so  unkind  and 
uncalled  for  ;  I  was  so  grieved  and  astonished,  that  I  passed 
her  by  without  answering.  I  looked  back  instinctively,  to 
see  her  reach  out  her  bony  fingers,  at  Demis,  who  lingered 
behind  ;  she  caught  her  by  the  arm  and  shook  her  roughly. 
"  Let  me  catch  you  a  cuttin'  up  sech  didoes  agin,  if  you  dare," 
she  fiercely  whispered.  "  Do  you  hear  ?"  "  Yes,  mnrm," 
meekly  answered  Demis.  "  Wall,  do  you  mean  to  mind 
your  P's  and  Q's — that's  what  I  want  to  know  ?"  asked  her 
incensed  parent,  treating  her  gratuitously  to  another  impres- 
sive shake.  Demis  again  dutifully  responded,  repressing  a 
cry  of  fear  and  pain. 

."Right  b'fore  my  face  and  eyes,  and  the  new  minister 
too.  I'm  mortified  to  death.  You  ought  to  have  a  guard- 
een  put  over  ye,"  added  her  mother,  sternly — gradually  re- 
laxing her  hold,  then  finally  sutfering  her  to  enter.  Demis 
threw  her  apron  over  her  head,  and  darted  up  stairs,  sobbing 
bitterly.  Annah  patted  softly  away  after  her. 


142  BUBINA. 

In  the  atmosphere  of  the  kitchen  some  elements  seemed 
strangely  displaced ;  though,  as  far  as  housewifery  went,  all 
was  perfection.  Every  separate  article  in  it  shone,  from  the 
effects  of  the  usual  Saturday's  scrubbing.  Uncle  Joel  sat 
by  the  stove,  an  unusual  thoughtfulness  on  his  rotund 
face.  He  eyed  the  coals  awhile,  ere  looking  up  at  me,  as  I 
went  and  stood  by  his  chair  ;  then  he  patted  my  head  kind- 
ly, and  an  expression  of  real  pleasure  caressed  his  face  ;  his 
eyes  sought  mine  wistfully,  but  he  said  nothing. 

I  followed  Deborah  into  the  pantry.  "There's  war  in 
the  wigwam,"  she  muttered,  with  a  cautious  glance.  She 
tried  hard  to  muster  a  smile,  but  it  was  not  at  home,  and 
made  but  a  brief  tarry — brief,  indeed,  for  the  most  scrupu- 
lously genteel  of  such  callers.  Used  to  her  moods,  I  detected 
a  scowl  on  her  forehead,  betokening  displeasure  ;  her  thick 
lips,  too,  gathered  in  an  ominous  pucker.  She  was  brimful 
to  the  muzzle  of  explosive  matter,  and  waiting  only  an  ignit- 
ing word  for  a  commotion,  such  as  frequently  swept  across 
her  pathway,  to  ensue.  Meanwhile  the  unconscious  divine 
rocked  to  and  fro  in  "  the  keeping-room"  alone,  while  the 
preparations  for  supper,  under  the  sullen  Deborah's  care, 
were  slowly  progressing.  The  door  was  ajar.  Through  the 
narrow  crack  I  stole  peeps  at  the  latest  Northfield  novelty, 
until  my  aunt's  re-entrance  to  the  kitchen  warned  me  away. 
I  bethought  me  then  of  the  sugar,  and  produced  It ;  at  sight 
of  which,  the  constraint  visibly  lessened  its  rigor,  and  Uncle 
Jesse's  donation  received  hearty  encomiums,  both  on  its  su- 
perior quality  and  its  generous  size.  It  seems  that  the  min- 
ister had  an  appreciative  taste  for  the  sweets  of  life,  done  up 
in  this  convenient  shape ;  for,  unasked,  he  came  out  to  see 
it,  at  which  Deborah  sniffed  irefully.  She  looked  uncon- 
cernedly over  his  head,  when  he  approached  her  with  a 


RUBINA.  143 

question.  When,  after  a  time,  she  lowered  her  optics  to 
bear  duly  on  his,  and  condescended  sufficiently  to  reply,  her 
answer  was  so  indifferent,  disrespectful,  and  widely  short  of 
the  mark,  that  it  evidently  galled  the  parson  to  the  quick, 
lie  retreated  hastily  from  the  table. 

Deborah  had  an  incurable  habit,  when  offended,  of  show- 
ing her  wrath  in  this  and  similar  ways :  in  roundabout  but 
pertinent  questions,  propounded  with  apparent  innocence, 
but  owning  a  malicious  originator ;  in  often  totally  omitting 
to  answer  a  civil  question — though,  if  you  casually  re- 
marked upon  her  growing  deafness,  she  would  retort,  hotly, 
that  "  she  could  hear  as  well  as  she  ever  could,  thank  hea- 
ven !"  Often  she  would  covertly  uncover  the  cause  of  her 
anger,  by  insinuating  speeches,  directed  to  any  inanimate 
object  in  the  room,  but  cutting  keenly  the  one  for  whom 
they  were  launched.  This  unlucky  evening  the  arrows  flew 
thickly — guardedly,  it  is  true,  and  abruptly  ceasing  whenever 
Aunt  Rhoda — of  whom  she  stood  a  little  in  awe — entered, 
or  came  within  hearing  distance. 

As  it  was  Saturday  evening,  all  work  was  suspended  after 
tea — the  family  Bible  brought  into  prominent  service,  while 
the  members  alternately  read  a  selected  portion  of  its  im- 
mortal history — usually  the  familiar  story  of  Samuel  or  Jo- 
seph, or,  perchance,  the  exploits  and  death  of  the  strong 
man  among  the  scoffing  Philistines.  On  Saturday  evenings 
we  were  expected  to  retire  early.  Going  to  my  room  this 
night,  after  these  exercises,  I  found  Demis  musing  dreamily 
by  the  open  window.  I  commenced  to  rally  her  on  her 
taste  for  solitude.  She  answered  me  abstractedly.  "  And 
you  got  specially  mentioned  in  prayers  too,"  I  went  on, 
gravely. 

To  my  surprise,  she  burst  into  tears,  impetuouslywaving 


144  RUBIXA. 

me  back  when  I  approached  to  console  her.  She  gasped, 
and  sobbed  hysterically.  "I  hate  the  weasen- faced,  red- 
haired  little  puppet  above  ground,"  she  cried  vehement- 
ly. "  He  has  no  business  to  burn  up  Mark's  pictures,  as  he 
does."  Seeing  my  puzzled  look,  she  hastened  to  explain, 
between  her  sobs,  how  the  minister  incited  her  mother  to 
destroy  Mark's  sketches — calling  them  "  temptations  of  the 
evil  one" — as  the  only  way  to  turn  his  inclinations  to  the 
ministry.  She  described  the  scene  which  followed,  with  a 
burst  of  indignation,  and  frequent  ejaculations  of  hatred  to 
the  instigator. 

"  And  what  did  Mark  say  ?"  I  asked. 

u  Not  a  word.  He  has  got  beyond  talking,  I  think.  He 
put  away  his  brushes  and  pencils,  and  locked  them  up." 

"Where  is  Amanda?  I  hardly  missed  her,  she  isolated 
herself  so  completely  from  the  family." 

"  She  went  up  to  see  Olive  this  afternoon.  She  hasn't 
any  feeling.  She  sides  right  in,  against  Mark ;  says  '  it's 
good  enough  for  him ;  he  must  be  sick,  to  care  so  for  his 
daubs,  useless  things  as  they  are.'  "  She  closed  her  lips 
with  scornful  emphasis.  •••  «*• 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE  Rev.  Silas  Fuller  was  a  dapper  little  man  ;  spry  as  a 
youthful  cricket,  and  seldom  as  long  quiet.  He  squinted 
horribly,  therefore  wore  spectacles  —  gold-bowed  ones  — 
which  produced  a  profound  impression  upon  his  congrega- 
tion, and  helped  decidedly  toward  ir  conversion.  His 
gait  was  rather  peculiar — iaid\vay  b,v.;veen  a  wa^k  and  a 


RUBINA.  145 

trot,  as  though  he  was  perpetually  trying  to  keep  even  pace 
with  some  invisible  longer-striding  companion.  That  he 
ever  stumbled  into  the  pastoral  office  was  the  great  mistake 
of  his  life.  Such  are  not  the  men  whom  Nature  selects,  as 
rightful  generals  over  armies  of  pilgrim  souls.  She  does  not 
so  maltreat  her  offspring,  by  sending  them,  as  teacher,  a 
narrow  mind,  a  hopeless  bigot,  a  pretentious  dunce.  But 
here  he  was,  in  all  his  self-styled  glory ;  his  dapper  head 
fitting  to  his  dapper  body,  by  a  slender  isthmus  of  neck, 
which  revolved,  like  an  inquisitive  weather-vane,  for  a  per- 
petual survey.  We  have  seen  such  men  before  ;  the  type  is 
not  uncommon ;  and  their  outward  seeming  is,  to  a  certain 
extent,  a  sure  index  of  their  mind.  The  brisk  little  white- 
washer,  who  comes,  on  sunshiny  days,  during  the  troublous 
reign  of  the  annual  spring-cleaning  freshet,  with  his  brushes, 
and  bucket  of  lime,  belongs  to  this  fraternity.  How  he 
flies  around  the  barrel  of  slacking  lime,  peeping  needlessly 
into  the  hissing,  steaming  mass  !  How  nimbly  he  mounts 
his  stool !  How  deprecatingly  he  absorbs  praises  from  the 
gratified,  smiling  mistress,  as  the  smeared  smoky  surface 
leisurely  grows  into  one  of  purest  white !  How  anxiously 
he  sucks  his  nether  lip,  when  perverse  drops  fall  from  the 
uplifted  brush,  and  spatter  the  bare,  scoured  floor  !  If  fa- 
miliar with  the  regions,  how  briskly  he  trots  away  for  a 
towel,  wherewith  to  remove  the  spots,  as  footsteps  approach 
the  door !  How  admirably  he  flatters  fretful  housewives, 
and  dodges  the  impending  fault-finding  !  And  for  all  these 
virtuous  qualities,  he  remains  to  the  last  only  "  a  clever  lit- 
tle man  enough." 

And  the  dapper  clerk.  How  spotless  in  attire  !  how  un- 
fledged in  looks  and  knowledge  !  what  commercial  verbosi- 
ty !  what  an  enormous  seal  ring — not  to  speak  lightly  of 

7 


146  RUBINA. 

carbuncle  studs  and  the  massive  watch-guard ;  what  salaried 
arguments  melt  into  persuasive  smirks,  and  smooth  the  path- 
way of  free  trade ! 

Then  there  is  the  dapper  doctor,  in  the  first  stages  of 
incipient  manhood — where  he  always  remains ;  with  school 
erudition  swelling  dangerously  in  his  plastic  mind.  How 
pompous  his  strut !  how  scrupulously  he  embellishes  the 
most  ordinary  chit-chat  with  staggering  medical  expletives  ! 
He  lugs  about  him,  as  companions  to  these — unswerving  in 
their  fond  allegiance — marvellous  reminiscences  of  "  what  I 
did  in  college !  among  the  Fresh',  you  know,"  how  adroitly 
"  I  fooled  the  prex,  an  old  fogy,  you  know."  They  are 
— where  he  lingers  long — familiar  as  "  household  words." 
"  M.  D."  wreathes  itself  indisputably  round  his  pretty  whale- 
bone stick,  which  swings  luxuriantly  to  and  fro  from  his  kid- 
gloved  fingers,  with  a  hop,  skip,  and  a  jump,  and  an  occa- 
sional dexterous  summersault.  Then,  in  fits  of  thoughtful 
abstraction  as  he  walks  the  streets,  it  knocks  its  head  medi- 
tatively on  his  teeth,  or  curls  up  comfortably  under  his  arm, 
like  the'  unwelcome  umbrella,  which  one  is  compelled  to 
carry  on  an  April  day,  when,  though  the  sun  smiles,  it  cannot 
hide  the  treacherous  thunder  heads  in  the  west ;  in  fact,  it 
assumes  fifty  different  quirls  and  modifications,  but  a  profes- 
sional cane  it  remains  for  all  that.  One  would  think  it  mes- 
merized, in  a  manner,  as,  apparently  of  its  own  accord,  in  its 
master's  most  absorbed  moments,  you  may  still  see  it  keep- 
ing  up  its  gymnastic  feats — leaping  franticly  in  mid-air,  s\v;iy- 
iug  softly  by  his  side,  or  peacefully  keeping  time  to  the  brisk 
pit-pat  of  his  little  shining  boots.  Witness  the  thrust  of  this 
M.  D.'s  'fingers  through  his  locks — which  exhale  an  odor 
stronger  than  agreeable,  of  whipped  lard,  scented  with  ber- 
gamot — ere  approaching  a  patient's  bedside;  and  the  un- 


RUBINA.  147 

varying  smirk  on  his  downy  lip,  as  he  counts  the  wrist's  pul- 
sations, or  desires  him  to  thrust  out  his  tongue  ;  and  the 
lofty  erection  of  the  medical  brain,  as  he  hands  the  nurse  a 
powder,  with  the  usual  solemn  injunction,  "  It  must  be  taken 
precisely  at  the  moment,  sleeping  or  waking,  or  I'll  not  be  re- 
sponsible for  the  consequences"  This  is  the  physician  whose 
fraternal  sympathy  for  the  sufferings  of  the  whole  human 
race  you  can  pack  away  conveniently  in  a  filbert-shell,  with 
ample  room  for  a  counterpart.  He  grins  delightedly  at  the 
accession  of  a  new  patient ;  and,  if  the  disease  is  contagious, 
"  thinks  there  is  no  need  to  exclude  from  the  sick-room"  the 
other  members  of  the  family.  "  Be  careful,  and  there's  not 
the  slightest  danger  (but  that  you'll  take  it),  he  subjoins 
mentally.  He  is  never  puzzled  at  any  unusual  developments 
of  the  disease  ;  consequently  he  rejects,  with  a  touch  of  in- 
sulted dignity,  all  anxious  suggestions  of  "  counsel."  He 
gloats  over  surgical  operations  as  a  legitimate  field  for  ex- 
periment, and  stands  ready  to  amputate  all  your  limbs,  or 
your  head  either,  at  but  a  hint  from  his  precocious  instinct, 
"  for  fear  mortification'll  set  in."  And  at  the  crisis  of  your 
earthly  fate,  when  your  life  quivers  eager,  yet  reluctant,  be- 
twixt two  worlds,  and  a  rude  sound  may  decide  the  delicately 
poised  scale,  he  walks  cooly  to  the  window,  and  taps  airily 
on  its  sash,  or  enjoys,  with  keen  relish,  a  lunch  in  the  chim- 
ney corner. 

The  physique  of  the  dapper  minister  is  not  one  whit  more 
alluring ;  and  the  same  extraordinary  assurance  supplies  but 
poorly  the  constitutional  deficit  of  mental  ballast ;  the  same 
arrogant  egotism  lifts  him  to  a  preponderance  of  power,  wit, 
and  learning  in  his  own  eyes,  as,  with  rolling  eyes,  affected 
speech,  and  agonizing  gestures,  he  paints  yawning  pits  at  the 
pulpit's  foot,  with  pious  incantations,  filling  them  to  the  brim 


148  RUBIKA. 

with  the  summarily  selected,  writhing,  never-to-be  reprieved 
or  pardoned  black  sheep  of  God's  immortal  fold.  Then,  by 
a  mysterious  twist  of  saintly  logic,  he  transports  the  compla- 
cent "believers" — the  paying  portion  of  his  congregation 
tacitly  included — himself  at  their  head,  into  the  New  Jerusa- 
lem, claiming  them,  of  course,  for  "  gems  in  the  crown  of  his 
rejoicing."  A  comfortable  enough  doctrine  for  the  blessed 
white  sheep,  if  they  can  forego  all  human  feelings  of  pity  for 
their  unhappy  brothers  and  sisters  below.  Is  heavenly  pity 
more-  merciless  than  earthly?  and  will  not  sore  disappoint- 
ments await  some  of  us  at  the  judgment-seat?  How  will  our 
pettiness  quail  and  shrink  appalled  into  involuntary  self- 
condemnation,  as  the  record  of  nobler  deeds,  purer  lives,  than 
ours  by  far — unknown  to  us  on  earth — lift  those  we  rigor- 
ously sentence,  condemn,  here,  above  us  there,  in  an  inacces- 
sible niche  of  reward.  A  quiet  little  text  in  holy  writ  tells 
us  that  "  the  first  shall  be  last ;  and  the  last  first." 

However,  it  is  not  of  the  Rev.  Silas  Fuller  in  the  pulpit, 
who  comes  under  notice  now,  but  when  he  doffed  his  ludi- 
crous attempts  at  ministerial  dignity,  with  his  glib  sermon 
recitation,  and  descended  from  his  vainglorious  stilts  to 
mingle  familiarly  with  his  plain  farmer  laymen.  Deborah, 
after  one  week's  trial  of  his  company,  lost  her  patience,  and 
never  afterward  recovered  it.  She  scornfully  dubbed  him 
"Miss  Nancy" — a  cognomen  she  spread  far  and  wide  among 
her  clique  of  acquaintance,  when,  in  the-dusk  of  evening,  she 
threw  her  checked  shawl  over  her  gray  head,  and  went 
"neighboring."  She  declared  roundly,  one  morning,  that 
"  he  needn't  think  to  come  it  on  her  in  that  shape ;  she  knew 
when  she's  imposed  upon,  as  well's  the  next  one,  and  she 
wan't  goin'  to  put  up  with't  much  longer,  nuther." 

"  Why,  not  put  up  with  our  minister  ?"  inquired  Demis. 


RUBINA.  149 

"  No,  indeed !"  she  snapped  out ;  "  he's  the  nearest  nothin' 
ever  I  see,  if  he  does  hail  from  Boston ;  he  treats  folks  pizon 
mean,  /  think,  and  if  this's  the  way  he's  goin'  to  cany  on,  I 
for  one'll  quit.  I  never  was  used  to  no  sech  doin's,"  she 
pursued  hotly,  a  flush  mounting  to  her  gray  cheek.  "  He 
marches  right  into  my  room  mornin's,  without  leave  or  license, 
and  opens  the  winder,  jest's  soon  as  I  come  down  stairs ;  no 
matter  how  cold  'tis,  or  if  it's  rainin'  pitchforks.  When  I  go 
up  to  make  my  bed,  I'm  sure  to  find  it  open.  I  put  a  fork 
over  the  latch  one  day,  and  stole  out'f  the  clothes-press  door ; 
didn't  make  a  mite  of  no  difference ;  he  found  that  are  out, 
and  I  found  my  winder  open  jest  the  same.  I  declare  for't  I 
won't  stan'  it !  Pll  settle  his  hash  for  him !"  she  screamed 
shrilly. 

"He  wants  the  house  well  ventilated,"  put  in  Mark, 
archly  ;  his  eyes  twinkling  with  fun.  "  To  tell  the  truth,  I 
caught  him  at  his  tricks,  with  the  girls'  window,  this  morn- 
ing, and  I  ordered  him  out  in  such  a  tone  that  I  think  he'll 
stay  out  one  while.  I  told  him,  moreover,  that  hospitality 
had  bounds,  even  for  a  minister." 

"  Why,  Mark  !"  exclaimed  Demis,  delightedly. 

"  I  declare,  my  boy  !  I'll  make  you  a  batch  of  Injun  pan- 
cakes for  that  are,  and  a  spongecake  too,  for  ye  to  whet 
your  bill  upon,"  said  Deborah,  with  the  broadest  of  smiles. 
She  chuckled  softly  to  herself  at  intervals ;  and  when  she 
spoke  again,  it  was  in  a  greatly  mollified  tone.  "  It's  cur'ous, 
now,  to  see  the  way  he  manages  ;  ift  didn't  put  me  so  dcs- 
p'rate  out  o'  sorts,  I  should  laugh  ready  to  split.  He  allers 
gits  up  'arly,  and  he'll  be  down  here  'bout  as  soon  as  I  be,  a 
hangin'  round  to  see  me  git  breakfast,  and  a  puttin'  in  his 
oar  ev'ry  time  Mrs.  Martin  tells  me  any  thin'  to  do.  Then, 
ag'in,  he  seerns  to  think  he  knows  mor'n  ev'ry  body  else — • 


150  EUBINA. 

jest  as  if  /  hadn't  cooked  all  my  life,  ever  since  I's  knee  high 
to  a  toad.  He  says  the  coffee  hadn't  oughter  bile  up  but 
jest  three  times ;  it's  spiled  if 't  does  ;  and  he'll  twitch  it  off 
on't  the  h'arth,  if  I  aint  lookin'.  I  have  to  watch  the  crittur 
as  close !  Wall,  when  he  does  so,  I'll  put  it  back  ag'in ;  and 
— you  never  see  nothin'  to  beat  it — he'll  set  as  oneasy  on 
his  cheer ;  and  the  fust  time  my  back's  turned,  off  he  whopps 
it  ag'in.  Now,  if  thafs  Christian,  I  don't  want  nothin'  to 
do  with  it." 

"  I  saw  him  directing  you  how  to  cook  fish,  yesterday," 
remarked  Mark,  mischievously,  thus  starting  her  on  a  fresh 
track.  Debby  flushed  up  again. 

"  Yes  !  he  stuck  to't  that  it  must  be  cooked  jest  so  many 
minutes,  whether  or  no,  and  he  tuk  out  his  watch  to  keep 
count.  I  told  him  I  allers  let  it  bile  till  'twas  done,  minutes 
or  no  minutes,  and,  furthermore,  that  I  guessed  I  knew 
'nough  yit  to  tell  when  'twas  done,  without  none  o'  his 
•watches.  Wall,  he  was  real  muley,  and  insisted  his  was  the 
right  way  to  have  it  healthy ;  so,  for  once,  I  thought  I'd 
humor  him."  Debby  tossed  her  head  scornfully.  "  He 
told  me  when  to  turn  it  over,  and  I  turned  it  over ;  and  he 
told  me  when  to  take  it  out,  and  I  took  it  out.  What'd  I 
gain  by  it,  I  want  to  know  ?  Come  dinner-time,  Mrs.  Mar- 
tin scolded  terrible  'bout  the  raw  fish  ;  wondered  how'n  the 
name  of  common  sense  I  come  to  be  so  heedless,  and  all 
that ;  and  when  I  told  her  'twas  cooked  'cordin'  to  orders, 
she  shortly  told  me  to  cook  it  over  ag'in.  Wall,  I  took  off 
a  piece  for  Elder  Fuller  'fore  I  put  it  back  int'  the  spider, 
for,  says  I  to  your  mother,  '  he  likes  it  so,  it's  so  powerful 
healthy.'  Now,  if,  you'll  b'lieve  me,  he  didn't  eat  a  morsc-l 
on't  it.  I  see  which  way  the  wind  blew.  Says  I,  ;  Elder, 
you  dou't  fall  to  much ;  what's  the  matter  with  it  ?  You 


EUBINA.  151 

don't  seem  to  \>e  very  fishy  this  meal ;  don't  be  'fraid  on't ; 
it's  clean." 

"  Yes  !"  interrupted  Demis,  mimicking  his  mincing  tones. 
"  My  good  friend,  a  half  minute  longer  would  have  brought 
it  to  perfection." 

"  It's  all  minutes  with  him,"  added  Debby,  with  a  sigh. 
"  I  wish  he'd  clear  out  and  leave  the  sapworks,  for  my 
part." 

I  believe  the  good  soul  regarded  him,  sometimes,  in  the 
light  of  a  trial,  sent  to  inculcate  patience.  There  was  a 
good  deal  of  reason  for  her  complaints  ;  he  fairly  persecuted 
her  with  eternal  suggestions,  infesting  cupboard,  buttery,  and 
dairy,  at  all  hours,  with  the  pertinacity  of  a  hound.  There 
was  no  domestic  office — even  to  the  trimming  of  a  lamp — 
which  he  could  not  show  one  to  perform  in  a  better  way  j 
and  though  Aunt  Rhoda  was,  as  Debby  quaintly  phrased  it, 
"  all  clear  quill  with  the  Parson,"  I  sometimes  thought  she 
heartily  wished  the  end  of  his  tarry  would  come. 

One  Monday  morning  he  hovered  zealously  around  the 
wash-tub,  where  Debby  was  busily  rubbing.  He  peeped 
into  the  pounding-barrel,  and  observed :  "  Clothes  only  need 
pounding  five  minutes ;  it  answers  the  same  purpose  as  a 
longer  time,  and  does  not  wear  them  as  much.  That  you 
must  perceive,  my  friend  ;  though — you  must  allow  rne  to 
say — I  never  met  a  female,  before  you,  so  bigoted  to  old 
ways,  so  extremely  difficult  to  convince  of  rational  changes." 

"  Don't  call  me  your  friend,"  retorted  Debby,  calmly. 
"  I'm  pesky  'fraid  I  aint,  and  I'll  'low  you  to  say  any  thin' 
that  weighs  on  your  mind.  Speak  right  out  in  cov'nant 
meetin',  I  say,  if  you've  got  any  thin'  special,  'cause,  you 
know,  Elder,  that  bym'byc  comes  my  turn." 

"  I  cannot  help  feeling  a  human  interest  in  the  labors  of 


152  RtJBIXA. 

women,  and  endeavoring,  as  far  as  possible,  to  alleviate 
them,"  he  philanthropically  remarked.  "  I  know  the  views 
which  some  of  my  clerical  brethren  entertain  ;  but  /  don't 
consider  it  at  all  derogatory  to  my  dignity  to  help  my 
wife." 

"  The  wimmin's  much  obleeged  to  ye,  I'm  sure ;  but  they 
hope  ypu  won't  put  yourself  out  the  way  none  to  'leviate 
them,"  answered  Debby,  demurely  proceeding  with  her 
work ;  "  though,  I  must  say,  I'm  proper  glad  on't,  if  you  do 
take  holt  to  give  your  wife  a  lift ;  she's  a  weakly  body,  I've 
heerd  tell." 

"Now,  Miss  Deborah,"  he  pursued,  briskly,  " let  me  con- 
vince you  of  the  superiority  of  my  plan  ;  you  pound,  if  you 
please,  and  I'll  keep  count,  five  minutes,  and  we  will  see  if 
the  clothes  are  not  quite  as  clean  as  when  you  pound  an 
half  hour,  wasting  your  strength  needlessly." 

"Nay!  you  pound,  and  /'//  keep  count;  I'll  rest  me  a 
bit,"  proposed  Debby,  hastily  clapping  her  suds-covered 
hands  on  the  washboard,  with  such  unction  that  the  foam 
flew  in  the  Elder's  face ;  she  wiped  them  on  her  woollen 
apron,  and  reached  out  for  the  watch.  The  abashed  divine 
colored  a  little,  but  reluctantly  handed  it  over,  and  grasped 
the  pounder. 

Mark  cautiously  opened  the  keeping-room  door,  and 
peeped  out,  brimful  of  laughter,  at  this  reversion  of  proceed- 
ings. 

"  What  if  mother  should  come  in  now  and  spoil  the  fun  ? 
she  always  does,"  whispered  Demis,  as  Annah  tottered  up 
to  the  perspiring  church  functionary,  and  asked  him,  inno- 
cently, "  if  Debby  mustn't  pray  for  him  if  he  worked  for 
her. ' 

He  pounded  vigorously.     "  My  good  friend,  I  think  it 


RUBDTA.  153 

must  be  five  minutes,"  he  said  at  last,  pausing  to  wipe  his 
streaming  forehead. 

"  Oh,  massy,  no !"  answered  she,  looking  down  at  the 
watch,  "  it  lacks  some  time  on't  yit.  You  go  too  hard,"  she 
added,  "  you'll  tucker  yourself  all  out,  at  this  rate." 

"  Never  fear,"  he  replied,  resuming  his  labor.  Debby 
turned  round  with  an  expressive  gesture,  signifying  "  she'd 
got  him  there ;  and  there  she  meant  to  keep  him  one 
spell." 

"  By  Jove  !  that's  the  richest  thing  I've  seen,"  ejaculated 
Mark,  taking  extraordinary  attitudes  to  retain  his  laughter. 
He  also  began  a  series  of  eloquent  gesticulations  to  Demis 
for  paper  and  pencil,  wherewith  to  sketch  the  scene,  when 
the  door  opened,  and  Aunt  Rhoda  entered.  She  stopped 
short  before  the  tableau,  glancing  suspiciously  at  Deborah, 
who  bore  the  scrutiny  with  apparent  unconcern.  "  What's 
all  this  ?"  asked  aunt,  sharply. 

"  Dear  me,  sus,"  said  Debby  cosily,  "  he's  a  showin'  me 
how  to  wash.  That's  all.  Nothin'  to  make  a  fuss  about,  is 
there  ?" 

"  Oh !"  returned  her  mistress,  unconcernedly,  as  she  passed 
on. 

"  Now,  my  friend,  please  tell  me  the  time !"  again  de- 
manded the  little  washerman.  He  looked  around  inquir- 
ingly, showing  us  a  face  of  the  color  of  a  beet,  and  deluged 
with  perspiration. 

"  Wall,"  replied  Dekby,  "  it's  near  'nough  to  five  minutes, 
I  guess ;  but  do  you  s'pose  them  are  pounded  enough  ? 
Hadn't  we  better  make  sure  on't  ?" 

"  Oh  !  I'll  warrant  those,"  he  rejoined  glibly  ;  and  he  ran 
to  the  towel  and  dried  his  hands.  Debby  restored  his  watch, 
lie  colored  to  the  temples  as  he  glanced  at  it ;  then  turned  aa 
7* 


154  KUBINA. 

white.  "  You've  deceived  me,"  he  angrily  cried  ;  "  I  have 
pounded  fifteen  minutes  !" 

"  Wall,"  rather  sharply  retorted  Debby,  "  I  wan't  goin'  to 
hang  out  dirty  clothes  for  you,  nor  no  man  livin'.  I  guess 
they  hain't  took  no  hurt  by  a  few  extra  rubs.  That's  'bout 
the  time  /  allers  give  'em,  though  I  must  say  I  never  meas- 
ured it  afore." 

"  Ah  !  you  are  more  difficult  to  manage  than  my  wife,"  he 
returned.  "  She  is  willing  to  hear  to  reason." 

"  I  pity  her !"  said  Debby,  shaking  her  head,  "  I  do,  in- 
deed, from  the  bottom  of  my  soul.  She's  a  dreadful  afflicted 
creetur,  I  b'gin  to  think." 

"  How  so,  madam  ?"  he  inquired,  waxing  wroth.  "  In  what 
respect,  pray  ?"  and  he  endeavored  to  look  at  her  sternly. 
But  Debby  had  suddenly  grown  deaf.  She  resumed  her  in- 
terrupted rubbing,  without  even  looking  up  to  catch  the 
withering  fire-fly  gleam  from  the  insulted  parson's  small,  yel- 
lowish-blue eyes. 

"  I  think  you'd  a  made  a  heap  better  hand  to  a  hired  out 
for  housework  than  you  be  for  preachin',  though  /  don't 
want  hide  nor  hair  on  ye  for  either,"  she  muttered,  as  he 
picked  up  his  hat  and  cane,  and  went  out  to  air  his  vexation. 

"  I  declare,  children,  I  made  somethin'  out  on't  alter  all," 
she  presently  said,  putting  her  frowsy  head  in  the  keeping- 
room.  "I  ain't  his  'good  friend'  no  longer,  I'm  'madam,' 
and — don't  say  nothin' — I'll  fetch  him  to  his  porridge  afore 
I've  done  with  him." 

But  though  this  wncivil  warfare  was  persistently  waged, 
with  extremely  short  intervals  of  peace,  by  these  unequally 
matched  combatants ;  though  domestic  quiet  was  attacked, 
routed,  and  sent  flying  almost  daily — affording  ample  amuse- 
ment to  at  least  three  of  the  household — yet  the  masculine 


RUBINA.  155 

citadel  showed  no  signs  of  surrender.  The  solitary  garrison 
never  arrived  at  that  point  of  submissive  obedience  so  hope- 
fully anticipated  by  his  feminine  enemy.  He  was  never  forced 
by  penitential  hunger  toward  the  "  bowl  of  porridge"  in 
waiting  store  for  him  ;  for,  to  her  chagrin,  defeated  on  one 
field,  he  invariably  returned  to  fight  loyally  on  another. 
Humiliated  by  his  ancient  foe  he  often  was ;  but,  to  do  the  little 
man  justice,  he  seldom  bore  malice  longer  than  one  entire 
day,  and  he  seemed  utterly  unconscious  that  his  interfering 
habits  were  at  all  unusual,  impertinent,  or  offensive  to  pre- 
siding domestic  geniuses  ;  that  they  were  derogatory  to  min- 
isterial dignity,  or  irritating  to  dominant  New  England  inde- 
pendence of  spirit.  Deborah  was  in  error  from  the  beginning, 
in  spreading  abroad,  among  the  members  of  his  flock,  grossly 
indignant  bulletins  of  his  odd  doings.  Her  listeners  were 
amused,  edified,  and  curious  to  absorb  her  recitals,  but  ex- 
tremely cautious  about  supplanting  her  in  her  position. 
They  suppressed  all  invitations  to  sojourn  with  them  longer 
than  to  assist  at  an  ordinary  afternoon  tea-drinking ;  and  as 
it  is  no  part  of  a  hospitable  host  or  hostess  to  hint  of  an  unwel- 
come prolongation  of  a  visiting  term,  and  as  he  seemed  well 
content  with  his  quarters,  he  remained — Deborah's  tormentor. 
Uncle  Joel  was  a  conscientious  church  member,  and  so  full 
of  charity  towards  every  one,  that  he  tried  to  be  lenient  to 
all  shortcomings  of  those  both  in  and  out  of  the  sacred  en- 
closure; but  it  is  doubtful  if  he  ever  perceived  the  elder's 
failings.  An  odd  mixture  of  the  simple  and  reverential  per- 
vaded his  whole  nature.  He  was  often  obtuse  to  that  which 
deeply  touched  others;  to  the  most  ludicrous  of  human 
manifestations  ;  and  to  the  plainest  of  logical  perceptions  he 
remained  mute  and  inattentive.  But  in  recompense  for  this 
deficiency,  if  such  it  was,  he  had  dreamy  apprehensions  of 


156  RUBINA. 

feelings  and  thoughts  immeasurably  exalting.  When  these 
outlines — dim  at  best  to  the  wisest  and  purest — were  reveal- 
ed to  him,  his  soul  shook  off  its  petrifying  slumbers,  and 
stood  out,  ardently  worshipping.  Then,  and  then  only,  he 
was  strong  enough  to  breast  the  waves  of  scornful  defiance, 
and  ridicule  of  his  intuition.  He  was  a  good  man  and  a  sin- 
cere Christian,  though  doctrine  puzzled  his  simple  brain 
sorely,  and  election  and  foreordmation  were  logs  over  which 
he  stumbled,  and  for  that  reason  usually  avoided  in  his  spir- 
itual travels.  He  peered  curiously  sometimes  at  his  new 
spiritual  guide,  as  if  vaguely  seeking  to  discover  by  his  coun- 
tenance the  perplexing  source  of  an  ever-haunting  deficiency. 
He  looked  distressed  at  Deborah's  abrupt  parrying  of  the 
elder's  thrusts  at  her  cherished  country  ways,  and  sighed  at 
her  unhesitating  retorts  when  criticised  by  the  elder  in  his 
cold,  wiry  tones,  but  he  never  once  ventured  to  check  her. 

However,  there  comes  an  end  to  all  things.  In  accord- 
ance with  this  universally  conceded  law,  there  came  a  close 
to  this  visit.  May  flowers  were  blooming  in  forest  hollows, 
when  the  much-vaunted  patient  wife  came  among  us,  bring- 
ing all  necessary  equipments  for  housekeeping.  It  was  a 
blessed  day  for  Debby ;  and  her  eyes  fairly  sparkled  when 
he  bade  her  a  civil  farewell.  She  dropped  a  courtesy,  and 
handed  him  from  the  pantry  a  good-sized  bundle  of  pies, 
neatly  wrapped  in  towels  of  her  own  spinning,  weaving,  and 
bleaching,  for  a  parting  gift,  with  the  curt  observation : 
"  Wall,  Elder,  forgive  and  forgit's  the  motter  in  this  ere  world, 
and  I  don't  lay  up  nothing  'g'inst  nobody.  I  hope  ye'll  find 
them  pies  eatable,  though  I  didn't  make  'cm  'zactly  as  you 
said  I  oughter ;"  and  she  then  discreetly  withdrew. 

Strange  promptings  of  the  affections,  prejudices,  and  an- 
tipathies lead  and  rule  us  unaccountably.  Several  days 


BUBUS'A.  157 

later,  when  the,  minister's  daughter — sweet,  rosy,  merry 
Kitty — oame  to  see  us,  Debby  conceived  a  violent  fancy  for 
her ;  and  as  peculiar  a  friendship  dawned  between  the  two, 
a?  existed  hatred  between  herself  and  Kitty^s  sire. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THREE  years  weave  many  changes.  Light  and  shadow 
trail  along  their  web  and  woof.  In  this  short  period,  not  a 
human  heart,  pulsating  with  life,  but  which  erects  and  de- 
molishes a  hope,  a  fear  ;  not  one,  fully  awakened,  but  which 
smiles  with  newly  born  blessedness,  or  pales  and  quivers  in 
the  throes  of  mortal  agony.  Their  imperceptible  develop- 
ment transforms  crude  childhood  into  serene,  conscious  youth. 
Youth  ripens  into  the  mellow  flush  of  early  manhood.  Age 
gathers  an  added  wrinkle ;  and  a  village  history  a  few  more 
chronicles.  But,  after  all,  old  landmarks  along  life's  high- 
way seem  not  materially  displaced  or  obscured.  Miss  Char- 
ity's rule  in  the  schoolroom  is  temporarily  abandoned.  She 
is  suffering  from  a  cough — "  slight,"  she  calls  it ;  she  thinks 
"  she  caught  cold  the  day  of  the  funeral" — which  was  chilly  , 
and  rainy — and  an  edict  has  gone  forth  from  Miss  Roby,  that 
"  there's  no  two  ways  about  it ;  she's  got  to  stay  to  hum  a 
spell  and  doctor  it  up."  In  the  great  warm  mansion  there  is 
another  silent  corner  ;  another  soul  has  reluctantly  exchanged 
incompleteness  for  fruition  and  tearfully  groped  heavenward  ; 
another  grave  swells  the  group  in  the  green  meadow  ceme- 
tery. Miss  Lucretia  sleeps  the  dead's  dreamless  slumber.  The 
final  rupture  of  the  golden  bowl  occurred  but  a  few  weeks 
since.  A  lengthened  scene  of  suffering  fell  to  her  lot,  but  the 
silver  cord  is  loosed  at  last,  and  in  its  wake  follows  divine 


158  KUBINA. 

peace.  The  day  after  the  burial,  I  strolled  with  Demis 
and  Kitty  to  her  grave.  It  was  summer ;  but  no  sods  cov- 
ered it.  All  around  lurked  luxuriant,  green  uniformity.  The 
waving  grass  almost  concealed  the  shape  of  the  surrounding 
mounds  rendering  this  new  corner  more  sadly  revolting.  This 
high  round  mass  of  yellow  gravel,  belched  from  depths  un- 
der blooming  verdure  by  the  stolid  sexton's  spade,  with  por- 
tions of  its  surface  crumbling  off,  and  rolling  down  to  hide 
in  the  weeds  at  its  feet !  In  looking  at  a  new-made  grave 
there  seems  no  reliable  evidence  of  immortality.  Faith  strug- 
gles to  believe,  and  tries  assiduously  to  render  into  consoling 
practice,  her  doctrines  ;  but  the  bare  cold  earth,  speaking  so 
eloquently  of  the  silence  of  desolation,  blankly  refutes  them 
all.  We  gaze,  instead,  into  the  hopeless  vault  of  our  dear 
buried  love.  It  stares  at  us  so  unanswerably.  We  are  dumb 
before  its  mute  logic.  But  when  noiseless  battalions  of  un- 
seen forces  have  crowned  it  with  affinity  to  nature  ;  when 
seed-times  and  harvests  have  bloomed,  and  waned  over  it, 
and  constant  vigils  of  our  common  mother  have  bathed  it  in 
resignation,  then  our  scattered  senses  reunite  and  rend  the 
veil,  and  we  catch  a  bright  view  of  the  immortal  life  beyond. 
And  hope  grows  anew,  that  in  the  hush  of  recent  sorrow  lay 
cold  and  torpid.  Then  we  begin  to  realize  that  we  have  but 
planted  the  seed  in  that  green  flower-crowned  mound, or  rather 
the  useless  husk  of  the  seed,  germinating  in  death ;  its  flowers 
smiling  for  us  beyond  the  stars.  Now  Faith's  prophetic  eye 
springs  upward,  into  invisible  but  not  unfamiliar  realms. 

Demis  and  I  have  been  drafted  into  household  duties,  and 
may  consider  our  schooldays  ended.  I  am  sorry ;  and  so  is 
she.  We  are  just  beginning  to  love  study ;  to  appreciate  its 
importance  ;  but  we  cannot  help  ourselves.  Her  mother  is 
generalissimo  of  the  household  forces,  and  she  says  sharply, 


RUBINA.  159 

that,  "  when  one  can  read,  write,  and  cypher  to  the  Rule  o' 
Three  in  'Rethraetic,  with  'nough  Jography  to  bound  the 
States,  and  Parsin',  so's  not  to  make  no  mistakes  in  talking ; 
that's  eddication  a  plenty  in  her  opinion  :  it's  all  she  had,  and 
what  answered  for  her'll  answer  for  other  folks."  Besides  this 
fiat,  the  committee  issued  another  at  the  annual  "  school 
meetin',''  and  Unqle  Joel  came  home  from  it  with  the  an- 
nouncement, that,  being  over  fifteen,  we  could  "  draw  no  more 
public  money."  "Whose  notion  is  that,  I  wonder  ?"  cried 
Debby,  who  was  vigorously  rocking  Annah  in  a  kitchen 
chair,  and  pensively  humming,  "  Hi,  Biddy  Martin." 

"  Lawyer  Prince  first  started  the  idea,  I  b'lieve ;  they're 
goin'  to  hire  a  man  teacher,  too,  for  the  winter,"  he  placidly 
returned. 

The  committee  came  down  soon  after,  to  engage  Mark, 
but  he  unhesitatingly  declined ;  whereat  his  mother  looked 
much  displeased,  and  his  father  as  much  bewildered. 

"  Why  not  make  a  ventur'  at  it,  my  boy  ?"  inquired  Uncle 
Joel,  raising  his  head  after  a  long  survey  of  the  glowing  fire. 
"  I  think  it'll  be  a  good  sight  easier  than  helpin'  me  haul  out 
lumber  this  winter,  and  I'm  sure  your  larniu'  need'nt  stand  in 
the  way." 

"  Wall,  all  /  have  to  say  is,  I  think  it's  high  time  you  was 
settling  on  somethin1  or  other;  you  don't  earn  the  salt  to  your 
porridge,"  put  in  his  mother,  a  good  deal  nettled  at  his 
prompt  refusal,  "  and  sixteen  dollars  a  month  don't  grow  on 
every  bush,  let  me  tell  you*!" 

"I  dontb'lievel  should  like teachin',"  saidhis  father,  slowly. 

"  Stuff !"  cried  Aunt  Rhody  ;  "  Joel  Martin,  you  don't 
know  what  you're  talkin'  about,  you  haint  never  tried  it." 
She  put  down  her  knitting  and  steadily  regarded  him,  un- 
til she  appeared  to  consider  him  sufficiently  awed  to 


160  RUBINA. 

keep  silence,  after  which  she  resumed  her  work  and  argu- 
ment. 

Marie  interrupted  her.  "  I  tried  it  a  week  for  Ned  Pea- 
body.  He  was  down  with  the  mumps,  and  I'll  not  try  it 
again." 

"  Do  tell !"  exclaimed  Deborah,  in  a  pitying  tone.  "  I 
wonder  if  he  tried  a  mustard  poultice ;  though  some  do  say 
that  slipp'ry  elem  is  better  1" 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

IT  was  Monday  morning.  All  in  our  little  household  were 
astir  long  ere  the  stars  waned,  clear  and  cold,  from  the  west- 
ern horizon.  "  Wall,"  said  Deborah,  pushing  back  from  the 
breakfast-table,  and  putting  her  chair  plump  against  the  wall 
with  an  energetic  snap,  that  made  the  listing  quiver,  "  I  s'pose 
that  are  washin's  got  to  be  did,  so  the  sooner  I  tackle  it  the 
better." 

"  Yis,"  assented  Aunt  Rhoda,  "  and  Demis  you  put  over 
the  fat-kittle,  and  then  go  up  chamber  and  help  'Mandy  sweep 
up.  You  know  the  teacher's  cornin'  to  board  to-night — 
there's  oceans  to  do.  Flax  right  round  now,  and  see  how 
smart  you  can  be,  if  you've  a  mind  to.  Now  Ruby,  you  may 
mix  up  some  doughnuts,  and  when  the  fat's  hot  I'll  fry  'em." 
She  closed,  and  sealed  these  rapid  orders  with  one  of  her 
characteristic  "  hems !"  which,  l«st  you  may  not  translate 
aright,  I  may  say,  meant  instant  obedience.  No  lingering  of 
a  moment ;  no  foolish  chat  on  the  stairway ;  scattering  rem- 
nants of  jest  and  laughter,  which  pleasurably  season  the  scene 
of  labor.  When  we  worked  in  Aunt  Rhoda's  presence,  all 
must  be  grim  determination.  Much  talking  provoked  her  ire. 


RUBINA.  161 

She  affirmed  that  "  it  made  us  heedless,  and  she  wanted  us 
to  b'gin  to  appear  like  folks."  If  she  surprised  us  in  a  merry 
mood,  she  instantly  assumed  a  shocked  visage,  dolefully  in- 
quiring "  if  we  knew  which  end  we  stood  on  ?" 

"  Mother !"  said  Demis  some  hours  later,  as,  her  sweeping 
finished,  she  stood  by  the  door  with  a  basket  of  damp  clothes 
in  her  arms  to  be  hung  on  the  line  outside,  "  seems  to  me 
Amanda's  mighty  chipper  lately  ;  shouldn't  wonder  if  we  had 
a  wedding  here  before  long.  High  time,  I  think.  /  won't 
wait  seven  years  for  a  Laban."  No  one  replied.  Her  mother 
raised  a  flushed  face  from  the  hissing  kettle,  in  which  were 
slowly  browning  great  puffy  twists  of  lightness,  emitting  a 
strong  odor  of  cinnamon.  She  stood  fork  in  hand,  turning 
them  rapidly  over,  that  both  sides  might  take  on  exactly  the 
same  hue.  Occasionally  she  favored  me  with  critical  glances 
and  sharp  irritated  expostulations,  as  I  vigorously  rolled  out 
the  soft  dough,  conscientiously  trying  to  imitate  precisely  her 
own  method  of  doing  up  the  long  spirals  into  just  the  right 
shape.  It  was  a  hopeless  task.  She  found  fault  assiduously, 
from  time  to  time  throwing  out  hints  "  that  no  one  in.  that 
house  tried  to  please  her,  and,  for  her  part,  she'd  long  ago 
gi'n  up  expectin'  it." 

"  I  do  my  best,"  I  at  last  said  desperately. 

"  Wall,  your  best  is  very  poor,  indeed,  Ruby,"  she  se- 
verely retorted.  "  There  !  turn  it  over  this  way  ;  then  give 
it  a  twist,  sofashion  ;  and  then  it  don't  fly  apart  in  the  ket- 
tle." She  motioned  with  her  fork  these  directions ;  her  face 
cleared  a  little  as  she  watched  me.  "  They  come  up  beauti- 
ful, if  you  did  make  'em,"  she  added  by  way  of  encourage- 
ment. "  I'm  most  afraid  you  put  full  short'nin'  enough  in 
'cm." 

"  Ruby  can  cook  as  well  as  the  next  one  if  she's  let  alone," 


162  KUBINA. 

interposed  Debby.  "  jVobody  can't  do  nothin'  when  watched 
like  a  lynx.  It  flustrates  me  all  sorts." 

"  Wall,  Deborah,  you  just  attend  to  your  work,"  conde- 
scendingly said  Aunt  Rhoda.  "  Nobody  asked  you  to  speak. 
I  spose  I  can  do  as  I  see  fit  in  ray  own  house ;  when  I  can't 
I'll  let  you  take  the  reins  o'  government." 

Debby  dared  not  contradict  this  assertion ;  she  bent  her 
head  in  silence,  commencing  a  vigorous  rubbing.  But  this 
state  could  not  continue  ;  being  thus  put  down  did  not  suit 
her,  as  she  phrased  it ;  "  she  wan't  goin'  to  be  browbeat  by 
nobody  livin' ;"  her  face  grew  every  moment  more  sullenly 
angry.  "  Deary  me !"  she  presently  said,  pausing  in  her  labor, 
"  my  wrist's  gittin'  lamer  and  lamer  every  day  I  draw  the 
breath  of  life.  I  can't  work  so  much  longer.  It's  as  much  as  I 
can  do  now  to  wring  these  great  heavy  sheets  ;  and  seek  washes 
as  we  have,  to  be  sure !  No  need  on't  nuther ;  havin'  so  many 
things  jest  to  make  work."  No  answer.  So  she  presently 
resumed,  with  a  preliminary  sigh :  "  I  was  a  countin'  the  pieces 
over  last  week  to  Miss  Purse ;  she  said  she  didn't  see  how  I 
stood  it ;  she  shouldn't  think  I'd  hold  out  as  well  as  I  do." 

"  I'll  be  hanged  if  theirs  ain't  jest  as  large,"  asserted  Aunt 
Rhoda ;  "  there's  eight  of  'em  in  the  family,  besides  the  hired 
man." 

"  No  they  ain't,"  said  Debby,  positively ;  "  an'  they  sleep 
in  flannel  sheets  ;  that  saves  a  sight,  for  you  know  you  can't 
wash  'em,  they  full  up  so." 

"  Wall !"  crustily  observed  her  mistress,  "  you  needn't  take 
the  trouble  to  go  roun'  to  the  neighbors  complainin'  how 
hard  you  work.  Nobody  obleeges  ye  to  do  it,  Fin  sure.  If 
you  can't,  you  needn't,  only  don't  be  everlastin'ly  twittin' 
'bout  it.  I'm  sick  and  tired  o'  hearin'  it,  for  my  part." 

Deborah  at  this  retort  dissolved  in  tears.  When  she  spoke 


RUBINA.  163 

it  was  in  a  voice  decidedly  husky,  with  a  pathetic  whimper. 
"  Wall,  I'd  never  a  thought  it,  Mrs.  Martin,  turnin'  me  away 
arter  livin'  with  you  over  twenty  year,  and  bringin'  up  the 
children  for  you.  I'm  jest  as  fond  of  'em  as  if  they's  my  own. 
And  why  shouldn't  I  be,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  never  slept  a  wink 
all  that  season  they  had  the  measles  and  Canker  rash.  Ah  ! 
you'll  never  git  any  one  to  slave  as  I  have  for  'em  all  my 
days.  I've  allersbeen  an  underlin';  but  I  can  go,  I  s'pose.  I 
know  plenty  that'll  be  glad  to  have  me.  I'll  finish  the  work 
first,  and  mop  up,  so's  you  won't,  none  on  you,  have  that  to 
do.  It  looks  as  if  it  wanted  to  ride  out — this  room  does.  I'll 
rcsk  but  what  I  can  git  places  enough." 

As  during  my  residence  in  Northfield,  I  had  heard  this 
threat  almost  weekly,  when  any  thing  went  wrong  with  the 
domestic  harness,  I  felt  quite  tranquil  as  to  the  result.  As  the 
short  afternoon  waned,  the  mental  skies  cleared  encouragingly, 
and  when  evening  set  in  dark  and  bleak  without,  the  domestic 
horizon  shone  mild  and  clear.  With  Dwight  and  Natty,  came 
also  home  to  tea,  the  schoolmaster.  A  blazing  fire  in  the 
keeping-room  roared  and  sparkled  in  welcome.  This  room 
had  been  made  especially  neat  and  inviting,  by  much  sweeping 
of  the  gay  striped  carpet ;  prolonged  anxious  searching  after 
truant  atoms  of  dust,  which,  instead  of  flying  orderly  after 
their  fellows  out  of  the  open  windows,  rebellious!}*  nestled  on 
the  rounds  of  the  stiff-backed,  cane-seated  chairs,  on  the  broad 
top  of  the  massive  mahogany  bureau ;  and  in  the  recesses  of  the 
oval  carved  mirror-frame.  The  gilt  eagle  on  the  pointed  top  of 
this  mirror,  the  brass  rings  in  said  bureau,  were  freshly  polish- 
ed, and  glittered  in  the  cheerful  fire-light  like  burnished  gold. 
As  they  were  my  own  handiwork,  causing  me  nearly  the  af- 
ternoon's labor,  I  surveyed  them  with  a  degree  of  pardonable 
pride.  The  coming  of  "the  teacher"  to  board,  is,  in  a 


164 


New  England  family,  considered  quite  an  accession  to  the 
social  circle  ;  and  Derais,  as  she  busily  plied  the  brush  over 
the  already  shining  surface  of  the  fire'place,  and  gave  the 
glittering  balls  on  the  andirons  a  few  lingering  touches, 
rattled  volubly  on  the  interesting  theme.  Her  mother 
appeared  to  think  that  the  talk  exceeded  the  labor,  for 
she  suddenly  opened  the  door  from  the  kitchen,  put  her 
head  inside,  gave  a  critical  survey,  and  asked  rather  shortly, 
"  What  all  the  rumpus  was  about  ?"  She  did  not  look  par- 
ticularly charmed  or  satisfied  with  the  vague  answer  she  got  ; 
so  she  peremptorily  ordered  Demis  off  to  the  "  spare  room," 
to  "  straighten  it  up."  "Be  sure  you  put  quilts  enough  on  the 
bed,"  was  the  parting  injunction.  "  Stay  !"  as  a  chance  thought 
crossed  her  mind.  "  Demis,  what  spread's  on  that  are  bed  ?" 

"  I  believe  it's  the  one  I  pieced  when  a  little  girl,"  said  Demis. 

"Wall,  wall,  if  that's  on,  you  may  take  it  off,  short  order  ; 
I  remember  the  quiltin'  aint  nothin'  extra  on  that  ;  you  would 
have  a  quiltin'  bee,  and  do  it  all  yourselves,  and,  massy  to  me  ! 
some  of  them  stitches  are  long  enough  to  hang  a  person.  I 
felt  as  though  I  should  fly,  when  I  come  to  look  at  it." 
Demis  looked  disdainful.  "  I  wonder  if  you  think,  Mother, 
that  the  schoolmaster  will  inspect  the  quilting  of  all  the 
spreads  on  his  bed  ?  It's  as  good  as  he  usually  gets,  I'll  be 
bound  !"  she  finished  hotly. 

"Wall!"  her  mother  calmly  retorted,  "'twould  be  dan- 
gerous sort  o',  to  put  it  under  ;  he  might  get  caught  in  some 
o'  them  ere  stitches  ;  and  as  for  havin't  outside,  there's  no  more 
to  be  said  'bout  that  ;  so  get  right  square  along." 

"  You  look  in  that  chist  in  the  north  chamber  ;  and  I  guess 
you'll  find  one  that's  decent,"  she  called  after  Demis,  who 
had  started  on  .a  gallop  up  the  stairs,  "  sech  a  headstrong 
piece,"  she  muttered  crossly  ;  "  I  do  wish  I  could  make  her 


KUBIXA.  165 

do  as  I  want  to  have  her ;  she's  enough  to  try  the  patience 
of  Job.  But,  then,  as  the  minister  says,  we  must  all  have 
our  crosses,  and  take  'em  up  and  bear  'em ;"  and  she  sighed 
complacently.  My  face  flushed,  my  voice  quivered,  as  I 
asked  her  "if  she  considered  Demis  a  cross  ?"  she  eyed  me  in 
astonishment.  "  What's  come  over  you,  all  of  a  sudden  ?"  she 
asked  sharply.  "  You  look  mad  enough  to  snap  my  head  off. 
What's  the  reason,  I  wonder,  you  two  gals  never  can  bear 
to  hear  the  least  word  said  ag'in  one  'nuther  ?  'Twon't  allers 
last,  I'm  'fraid.  You'll  fly  off  the  handle  one  o'  these  days. 
I  never  knew't  to  fail  when  folks  are  so  thick." 
"  Why  don't  you  answer  my  question,  Aunt  ?" 
"Wall,"  she  said  peevishly,  inclining  her  head  to  listen, 
"  hear  that  screeching  now."  (  I  heard  an  uncommonly  sweet 
voice  warbling  an  old-fashioned  ditty,  above_our  heads,)  ".it's 
nothing  but  hootin'  and  tootin'  from  mornin'  to  night,  and 
for  my  part,  I'm  sick  and  tired  o'  hearin'  on't."  She  turned 
fretfully  away,  adding  piously,'  "but  it's  all  in  this  life,  and 
that's  one  comfort."  She  looked  in  again  presently  to  inform 
me  that  my  work  would  "  answer  well  'nough,"  and  she  de- 
tailed me  forthwith  for  duty  in  the  kitchen.  Here  much  re- 
mained to  be  finished :  the  straggling  odds  and  ends  of  the 
day's  labor  to  be  concentrated  to  one  focus  and  briskly  dis- 
patched. Then  ensued  a  great  deal  of  running  from  the  table 
to  the  pantry.  The  yellow  shelves  of  the  latter  place  suffered 
a  sweeping  robbery ;  an  incongruous  regiment  of  edibles  were 
marched  in  Indian  file  upon  the  waiting  board.  Then  there 
was  the  necessary  descent  into  the  chill  damp  cellar;  minus 
a  candle — my  aunt  never  tolerated  one  in  those  regions,  for 
fear  of  fire — I  dreaded  encountering  the  ominous  darkness, 
and  when  possible,  always  shirked  this  duty  on  some  equally 
unwilling  shoulders.  Many  a  goblin  form  lurked  forme  in  a 


166  EUBINA. 

post  rising  gray  in  the  gloom  ;  or  in  a  newer  barrel  than  the 
rest :  often  my  cowering  terror  played  me  the  most  fanciful 
tricks ;  and  darting  frantically  towards  the  locality  of  the 
sweetmeats,  I  would  seize  the  first  bowl  which  my  hand  en- 
countered, and  retreat — with  expectant  glances  over  either 
shoulder — to  the  stairway.  When  company  was  expected  Deb- 
by  was  not  trusted  with  setting  the  table.  Her  intentions 
were  excellent ;  her  efforts  untiring ;  but  in  her  cranium  the 
phrenological  bump  of  order  was  totally  wanting ;  no  amount 
of  quiet  instruction  and  example,  or  multitudinous  hints — to 
most  persons  a  sufficient,  because  mortifying  reminder,  would 
inculcate  carefulness.  She  always  left  the  butter-knife  trail- 
ing awry  on  the  white  cloth  ;  the  cups  and  saucers  sprawling 
awkwardly  in  all  directions.  Debby  had  finished  her  "  mop- 
ping up  "  ere  sundown ;  but,  instead  of  the  threatened  depar- 
ture, she  had  changed  her  dripping  garments  for  anew  blue 
calico  gown,  and  dry  leathern  boots.  She  had  smoothed  her 
thin  gray  locks — amply  wetted  with  cold  weak  tea ;  which 
hair  invigorator  always  stood  at  hand,  in  a  cracked  blue  tea- 
cup, replenished  every  morning — and  then  ensconced  herself 
by  thes  roaring  kitchen  stove.  She  looked  the  embodiment 
of  homely  peace  and  comfort.  Taking  Annah  upon  her  lap, 
and  gently  trotting  her  to  the  cheery  whistle  of  the  steaming 
tea-kettle,  she  offered  to  tell  her  a  story  about — "  when  I 
lived  down  East."  "Wall,  when  I  lived  down  « t'the  nine 
Pardners'- — You  see,  Anny,  there  was  nine  brothers  and  they 
was  all  in  bus'ness  together,  so  the  place  was  named  arter 
them."  This  explanation,  as  well  as  the  story  that  succeeded, 
and  the  ensuing  "  voyage  to  Savoy,"  had  been  told  to  An- 
nah's  wondering  ears,  scores  of  times  before  ;  but  she  never 
wearied  of  hearing  them,  and,  provided  Debby  ran  always  in 
the  same  tracks,  was  satisfied  and  delighted.  If  she  attempt- 


RUBINA.  167 

ed  changes  in  the  narratives,  the  little  auditor  speedily  set 
her  right.  Debby's  stories  were  lengthy,  usually  inducing  a 
drowsy  languor,  which  she  roused  and  dissipated  by  the 
query,  "  I  wonder  now  if  Anny  wants  a  song  !"  Then  a  voice 
rose  over  the  kitchen  bustle — strangely  pathetic,  as  it  quiv- 
ered through  the  sad  minor  of  the  love-songs  of  her  early- 
girlhood. 

A  sapless  forest  tree  slowly  wrenched  from  the  soil ;  turn- 
ing and  twisting  with  every  rush  of  the  wind,  groaning 
heavily  with  every  angrier  sweep  of  the  blast,  and  for  many 
days  chanting  thus  its  own  forlorn  dirge,  is  a  sad  sound  to 
hear.  Scarcely  less  ominous  did  Debby's  singing  seem  ;  the 
grace  and  pliant  sweetness  gone  from  her  voice,  oozing  out  of 
its  every  spiritual  pore,  along  with  its  twin  sister  Youth.  Age 
stopping  the  wheels  with  the  rust  of  the  body's  infirmities ; 
turning  music  into  cackle.  In  weird  tone  arose  the  unrcdressed 
plaints  of  dying  swains  (which  Debby  prefaced  with  "  it's  said 
to  be  a  true  story,")  happy  if  the  object  of  their  affections 
but  visited  their  slumbers,  and  smoothed  their  passage  tomb- 
ward  ;  and  the  fortunes  of  luckless  navigators  who — like  the 
illustrious  Genoese — scoured  the  seas  unweariedly  ;  but,  un- 
like him,  in  quest  of  faithless  fair  ones. 
"  He  sail-ed  east,  he  sail-ed  west, 

He  sail-ed  to  a  foreign  shore, 

Where  he  was  taken  and  put  in  prison 

"Where  he  could  neither  see  nor  hear." 

Deborah's  store  of  these  quaint  ballads  was  inexhaustible. 
She  revelled  in  the  marvellous ;  and  these  sole  relics  of  a  time 
long  since  vanished  into  the  "  sere  and  yellow  leaf,"  still  sung 
her  old  withered  heart  to  a  renewal  of  those  lost  days  of 
youth,  warming  its  paling  ashes  with  a  flash  of  the  old  fire,  not 
the  less  comforting,  that  it  was  only  a  transient  glimmer.  Her 


168  KUBINA. 

stories  were  largely  dosed  with  the  strong  flavor  of  the 
supernatural.  Mysterious  sights  and  sounds  which  hap- 
pened "  away  down  East,"  when  she  dwelt  in  that  enchant- 
ed land.  She  was  called  "  a  witch"  by  some,  because  she 
frequently  predicted  impending  evils,  and  they  not  unfre- 
quently  verified  her  prophecy.  She  possessed  a  natural  shrewd- 
ness which  she  turned  to  good  account.  "  She  could  see 
through  a  millstone  as  well  as  the  next  one;  specially  if 
there's  a  hole  in  it,"  she  was  fond  of  observing,  though  she 
liked  to  be  looked  upon  as  one  possessing  the  key  to  hidden 
knowledge.  Accordingly,  she  impressively  told  fortunes, 
when  it  so  suited  her  mood ;  either  in  deciphering  the  lines, 
which  a  perplexing  Fate  causes  to  be  written  on  the  palm, 
or  by  the  more  popular  method  of  sifting  the  shadowy  future 
from  the  little  pile  of  tea-grounds  remaining  in  the  cup.  She 
said  "  she  was  born  with  a  veil  over  her  face," — and  I  once 
heard  her  stoutly  maintain  to  a  doubting  neighbor  that  "  it 
was  a  green  veil ;"  and  could  tell,  by  any  one's  countenance, 
when  any  thing  was  going  to  happen  to  them.  She  saw 
"  sperrits,"  too,  and  was  a  devout  believer  in  omens — some 
of  which  her  own  eyes  had  seen,  and  many  more  of  second- 
hand origin  :  of  shadowy  coflins  gliding  over  the  ceiling,  ob- 
stinately transfixing  themselves  over  the  person  whose  doom 
was  thus  sealed ;  of  luminous  hands  waving  mysteriously ; 
and  of  foreshadowing  signs  in  the  atmosphere,  as  well  as  the 
no  less  truthful  nature  of  dreams,  of  which  she  was  always 
the  eager  positive  interpreter.  She  ceased  her  song  with  the 
summons  to  supper,  and  devoted  the  rest  of  the  evening  to 
a  persistent  scrutiny  of  the  schoolmaster.  "  What  a  puttin' 
through !  for  nothing !"  she  muttered  as  she  slowly  let  her- 
self down  into  her, chair. 

Uncle  Joel  good-naturedly  started  the  conversation  into, 


RUBINA.  169 

as  he  supposed,  congenial  channels.  As  for  the  new  preceptor, 
for  a  time  he  sat  stiff  and  silent  in  his  chair,  thus  unconsciously 
repelling  our  persistent  scrutiny.  Thwarted  in  fathoming  the 
spirit  animating  the  frame,  I  had  a  malicious  pleasure  in  sing- 
ling- out  each  personal  defect ;  in  watching  the  ungraceful  mo- 
tions of  the  tall  thiu  figure.  I  slyly  gave  Detnis  a  reassuring 
nod ;  evidently  we  need  stand  in  no  awe  of  so  quiet,  so  bashful 
a  man.  Yet,  though  slight  his  form,  it  somehow  gave  me  the 
idea  of  strength  ;  though  low  his  brow,  and  retreating,  one  in- 
sensibly associated  it  with  intellectual  attainments — albeit  fol- 
lowed by  a  smile  at  the  folly.  Not  pleasant  that  face ;  but  stur- 
dily strong.  The  mouth  compressed  its  lines  into  cautious 
selfishness  ;  yet  its  smiles  were  most  genial,  as  subsequent  in- 
terviews revealed,  in  spite  of  the  cold,  hard  eyes ;  they  shone, 
too,  but  with  no  tender  brightness.  Their  glittering  gaze 
relentlessly  impelled  one  to  do  his  bidding,  instead  of  win- 
ning ready,  cheerful  acquiescence.  Yet,  though  they  brood- 
ed in  a  sea  of  repulsion,  at  times  they  strangely  attracted — 
by  what  charmed  attribute  I  never  could  define.  In  these 
rare  seasons  a  vague  impression  of  manifold  heavy  sorrows 
bravely  borne — the  parents  of  glorious  aspirations, — of  a 
heart,  sympathetic,  generous,  true,  eager  to  succor  the  help- 
less, to  warm  and  cheer  with  the  true  elixir  of  encourage- 
ment the  despairing  and  the  faltering,  suddenly  beclouded 
my  previous  estimate  of  his  character,  and  induced  an  ap- 
parent accession  of  friendliness  to  my  manner.  It  was  far 
longer  before  Demis  dropped  her  reserve  in  addressing  him. 
It  was  evident  this  evening,  from  his  replies  to  Uncle  Joel's 
good-humored  questionings,  that  his  sway  over  the  rough  vil- 
lage boys,  would  be  no  arbitrary  government  of  the  detested 
ferule,  or  the  still  more  tortuous  raw-hide.  He  denounced 
it  as  infamous,  just  calculated  to  breed  insurrection  ;  and  his 


170  RTJBINA. 

eyes  gleamed  resolutely,  as  he  said  that  "  he  had  come  to  put 
to  flight  such  lingering  traces  of  barbarism  in  Northfield.  Not 
that  I  am  the  pioneer  in  this  good  work,  or  expect  to  be  man- 
ufactured into  a  martyr  if  I  fail.  In  several  of  the  States,  the 
system  of  instruction  has  manifestly  taken  a  higher  grade  than 
formerly,  and  the  pupils  are  appealed  to  like  rational  beings, 
not  flogged  into  a  dumb,  surly  show  of  obedience." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Uncle  Joel,  increduously  shaking  his 
head ;  "  I  wonder  how  a  body  can  tame  em  'n  any  other 
way  ?  There's  some  plaguy  hard  critturs  in  our  deestrict, 
and  it  don't  do  a  mite  o'  good  to  turn  'em  out,  'cause  they 
can  draw  public  money,  and  they  will •  go  hum  maybe,  and 
git  sent  back  post  haste  next  mornin'.  If  I'sc  in  your  place, 
Mr.  Hume,  I'd  lay  in  a  whaler  or  two,  and  then  you  can 
use  it  or  not,  as  you're  a  mind  to,  only,  in  case  the  reasonin' 
process  didn't  go  down  the  way  ye  expected,  'twill  be  mighty 
handy  to  have  a  stronger  dose  of  physic  handy." 

"  I'll  try  my  method  first,  and  then  I  will  remember  your 
advice,  Mr.  Martin.  Will  force  is  sometimes  stronger  than 
muscle,  you  know,"  said  Mr.  Hume. 

"  Wall,  I  hope  you  won't  have  no  trouble ;  but  the  fact  of 
the  business  is,  the  school's  got  a  bad  name.  You  see  they 
kinder  run  over  wimmen  folks,  and  once  they  git  the  upper 
hand  they're  dreadful  loth  to  let  go.  Them  big  boys  of  Ste- 
phens's  are  making  their  brags,  how  they'll  cast  you  out  of 
the  winder  in  short  metre,  if  you  don't  carry  your  carcass  to 
suit  'em.  I  heerd  'em  in  the  office  to-day,  and  there's  plenty 
o'  scallywags  round  just  mean  enough  to  hoorrah  'em  on,  only 
to  see  the  fun.  They'd  like  to  see  a  college  chap  took  down 
a  peg  or  two." 

Mr.  Hume  smiled,  and  nodded.  "  I  shall  make  it  my 
especial  duty  to  oil  their  consciences  a  little  ;  the  wheels  are 


KUBINA.  171 

rusty  ;  don't  work  smoothly,  but  a  good  engineer  soon  sets 
that  all  right.  They  must  be  converted." 

"  Lordy!"  ejaculated  Debby,  rising  precipitately,  and  leav- 
ing the  room. 

Uncle  Joel  looked  contemplative.  "  Wall,"  he  said  slowly, 
"  when  /was  a  shaver  I  used  to  get  tanned  awfully  sometimes. 
Mother  used  to  say  that  her  boys  was  all  full  of  the  old  Nick, 
but  Joel  was  the  cap  sheaf;  and  grandmarm  used  to  pray  over 
me,  time  and  time  agin :  she'd  whine  out  that  I  was  on  the 
right  road  to  ruin,  and  nothin'  but  a  mericle  would  ever  stop 
me  ;  and  I'd  come  to  the  gallers,  and  all  that,  till  I  got  to 
feelin',  arter  she  begun,  as  if  I  raly  was  a  slidin'  along  a  greased 
track,  right  down  to  the  bottomless  pit,  and  couldn't  stop  for 
the  life  of  me.  I  allers  thought  the  old  woman  was  ruther 
disappointed  arter  I  sobered  down  all  of  a  sudden " 

"  Now,  Joel  Martin,"  broke  in  Aunt  Rhoda,  «  don't  you 
b'gin  to  tell  over  afore  these  boys  how  you  used  to  carry 
sail ;  they'll  be  tryin'  the  same  pranks,  and,  goodness  knows, 
they're  bad  enough  now." 

"  Wall,"  persisted  her  phlegmatic  husband,  "  I  must  say,  I 
don't  believe  so  much  in  sparing  the  rod  and  spilin'  the  child, 
as  some  folks  not  a  thousand  miles  off.  I've  heerd  the  school- 
marms  say,  sometimes,  they'd  ruther  take  a  whippin'  them- 
selves than  to  see  Joe  Martin  come  -  into  the  school-house ; 
wouldn't  think  it  now,  would  ye  ?"  he  added,  laughing. 

"  'Taint  all  been  rooted  out  of  ye  yit,  I  guess,"  remarked  his 
wife.  "  The  scriptures  warn  us  to  watch  and  pray,  and  to 
strive  without  ceasing ;  and  if  you  don't  do  it,  I'm  bound  to 
do  it  for  you."  With  this  affectionate  harangue  she  rose 
from  the  table,  with  the  serene,  self-satisfied  air  of  one  who  has 
dropped  a  word  in  due  season,  on  particularly  stony  ground, 
and  has  so  much  less  to  answer  for  at  the  Judgment-seat. 


172  RUBIXA. 

"  Demis,  show  Mr.  Hume  into  the  settin'-room ;  and  Mark, 
you  fetch  up  some  apples.  I  want  to  pare  up  them  windfalls, 
and  have  'em  a  dryin'."  Thus  speedily,  pious  Mary  vanished, 
to  make  room  for  her  active,  worldly-minded  sister. 

Those  two  weeks  passed  swiftly.  The  lengthening  even- 
ings flew  on  wings  of  random,  cheerful  chat,  seasoned  with 
the  usual  family  labor.  We  formed  a  ring  in  the  large  kitch- 
en, its  centre  occupied  by  baskets  of  early  apples.  Tin 
pans  comfortably  crowned  each  sitter's  knee,  which  slowly 
exchanged  their  bounteous  measure,  for  one  of  curling  rings, 
and  dissected  cores.  Mark,  perched  Turkwise  on  the  table, 
solemnly  strung  together  the  separated  quarters.  And 
— how  or  when  I  do  not  remember — we  became  pupils  of 
Mr.  Hume ;  ardent,  if  ignorant,  seekers  after  knowledge. 
He  came  nightly,  after  he  had  left  us  for  another  boarding- 
place,  and  we  spent  long  hours  in  the  good  work  of  improve- 
ment. With  Mark's  entrance,  study  usually  vanished,  and  a 
series  of  romps  attempted — soon  and  surely  checked  by 
Aunt  Khoda's  decisive  voice  issuing  from  the  kitchen :  "  Come, 
come,  now,  none  of  that  ere;  you're  enough  to  craze  a  nation  !" 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  we  escaped  village  gossip. 
One  evening — it  was  a  raw,  blustering  one  in  early  January — 
we  hurried  our  tea,  as  usual,  to  go  to  our  room  for  some 
trifling  addition  to  our  usual  dress  of  homespun  woollen. 
These  additions  were  merely  a  knot  of  ribbon  at  the  throat, 
and  the  hair  freshly  braided  ;  they  were  soon  completed.  We 
returned  again  to  the  kitchen.  In  the  entry,  leading  from  the 
stairway,  we  stopped  involuntarily  on  hearing  our  names 
mentioned.  It  was  Amanda's  voice,  in  no  amiable  tone, 
repeating  malicious  assertions.  "  It's  so,"  she  concluded, 
"  positively,  for  Ira  says  so,  and  I  guess  he  wouldn't  lie 
about  it." 


RUBINA.  173 

"  Of  course  not,"  echoed  Debby,  somewhat  ironically.  "  But, 
to  tell  the  truth,  I've  heard  the  same  thing,  oh !  oceans  o' 
times.  It's  got  to  be  an  old  story  with  me.  Law  !  suz, 
I  never  laid  it  up  to  bring  hum,  for  you  know,  Miss  Martin, 
it's  an  old  sayin',  that  a  '  crow  that'll  fetch  a  bone'll  carry  one.' 
Well,  if  it's  a  lie,  you  may  have  it  as  cheap  as  I,  but  they 
do  say  that  Mr.  Hume  is  a  sparkin'  one  of  our  gals.  They 
won't  b'lieve  nothin  'bout  the  lesson  business ;  say  that  it's 
only  a  kiver  for  courtin',  and  want  to  know  if  both  on  'em  are 
in  the  room  the  whole  during  time." 

"  Wall,  what  do  you  tell  'em  ?"  inquired  Uncle  Joel. 
•  "  I  won 't  tell  'em  nothin',"  she  answered  shortly,  "  only 
to  find  out  by  their  wits,  if  they've  got  any ;  and  to  guess, 
and  come  ag'in.  It's  none  of  their  business ;  and  I,  for  one, 
don't  take  sass  from  nobody,  not  even  if  'twas  Queen 
Victory  herself.  Old  Miss  Prince's  as  high  as  nine  'bout 
it.  Says  it's  takin'  his  attention  from  the  school ;  and 
that  the  deestrict  might  jist  as  well  throw  the  money  in  the 
fire  as  to  waste  it  that  way.  She  says,  too,  that  he  don't 
keep  his  hours,  and  there'll  be  a  fuss  made  afore  long,  if  he 
don't  haul  in  his  horns :  and  I  don't  know  what  all.  I  can't 
b'gin  to  tell  all  she  said." 

"Why,  I'd  no  idee  o n't,"  said  Uncle  Joel,  dismayed. 

"The  other  day,"  pursued  Debby,  and  we  heard  her  set 
down  her  teacup  with  a  spiteful  rattle,  "  I  was  a  goin'  by 
there,  and  it  seems  she  got  a  squint  at  me,  for  she  up  and 
thumped  on  the  winder  for  me  to  come  in.  I  made  b'lieve 
I  didn't  hear  her  and  kept  right  square  along,  but  rap,  rap, 
went  her  old  thimble  ag'in  in  the  winder  pane,  so  I  give 
up  the  p'int,  and  went  in.  Wall,  they  appeared  dreadful 
pleased  to  see  me.  I  haint  been  there  in  an  age  before — not 
sence  that  scrape  in  the  house  'bout  the  peaches,  you  know, 


174  RUBIN  A. 

Mr.  Martin and  the  way  they  rattled  on  'bout  one  thing 

and  'nuther  was  a  caution.  Mind  you,  they  didn't  come  right 
out  and  out,  but  J  could  see  what  they's  drivin'  at.  Arter  a 
spell,  Malissy  says  something  'bout  it,  and  seemed  awful  put 
out,  'cause  I  would'nt  let  on  that  I  knew  what  she  meant. 
'  Law !'  spoke  up  her  mother,  '  you  rausn't  b'lieve  all 
you  hear.  If  you  do,  you'll  have  your  hands  full.  /  don't 
not  mor'n  half,  and  not  then,  unless  I  know  it's  so.'  '  Nor  I 
'nuther,'  snapped  out  Malis,  as  short  as  pie-crust, '  but  I  heard 
this  myself — I'se  in  the  store,  and  one  of  the  men  asked 
him  who  he  thought  was  the  best-looking  girl  in  the 
place,  and  it  didn't  'pear  to  take  him  long  to  consider,  for  he 
spoke  right  up  and  said,  'Miss  Martin.'  '"Wall,  he  p'rhaps 
meant  Mandy,'  said  Mrs.  Prince.  '  No,  he  didn't,  nuther,' 
said  she.  '  I  guess  he  don't  think  sandy  hair  and  freckles 
over  and  above  beautiful.  B'sides,  she's  spoke  for  already,  I 
spose  !' " 

"The  old  vixen  !"  muttered  Amanda,  wrathfully. 

"  I  sot  still  and  heard  it  all,  and  never  opened  my  head,  for 
I  thought,  now  I  was  in  the  scrape,  I  might  as  well  be  killed 
for  an  old  sheep  as  a  lamb,  you  know." 

"  'Fore  I'd  change  places  with  her  as  to  looks !"  scornfully 
observed  Amanda. 

"  Wall,  wall,"  said  Debby,  calmly, "  I  never  should  a  spoke 
out  only  you  begun  on  the  gals,  and  I  can't,  nor  shan't,  set  by 
and  hear  'em  'bused.  You  know,  I  don't  fellowship  Meliss 
Prince  any  mor'n  you  do :  she's  cut.  out  for  an  old  maid, 
if  there  ever  was  one.  She'll  be  one,  too,  unless  I  miss 
my  guess,  for  she  tries  so  hard  to  catch  a  man  ;  now,  mark  my 
words !"  . 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  if  she'd  set  her  cap  for  the  school- 
master," thoughtfully  remarked  Uncle  Joel. 


RUBINA.  175 

"  Wall,  Mr.  Martin,  I  guess  you  needn't  guess  ag'in ;  you've 
hit  the  nail  on  the  head,"  chuckled  Debby. 

"  We  will  stop  this,"  I  exclaimed  indignantly.  I  was  vexed 
to  feel  my  cheeks  burning,  painfully,  but,  turning  to  see 
how  Demis  was  affected,  I  was  a  little  consoled  at  finding 
her  face  likewise  flaming.  In  her  case  it  heightened,  instead 
of  detracting  from,  her  dark  beauty.  Without  one  miserable 
pang  of  envy ;  with  naught  save  one  solitary,  irrepressible  sigh 
for  my  own  plainness,  I  stood  several  moments— my  hand  on 
the  latch — silently  regarding  her.  My  bonnie,  brave  New 
England  girl !  My  royal  gypsy  queen  !  she  was  far  too  simple 
to  notice  my  gaze,  or  to  guess  its  meaning.  No  vanity  sillily 
compressed  into  a  smirk  the  full  red  lips ;  none  showed  its 
detracting  light  in  her  soft  dark  eyes.  She  turned  towards 
the  door,  smiling  mischievously.  "  Never  mind !  we  won't 
care  what  malicious  spinsters  say.  As  Elder  Fuller  is  so  fond 
of  saying — Let  us  rise  above  all  such  grovelling  considerations, 
and  march  on — to  our  lessons,  to  victory,  or  failure — and  oh! 
there's  the  schoolmaster's  knock." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

APPARENTLY  these  rumors  did  not  trouble  Mr.  Hume,  for 
he  continued  his  visits.  It  is  more  than  probable  that  he  was 
in  ignorance  of  their  existence.  I  think,  had  he  been  thus 
enlightened,  our  lessons  would  have  ceased  abruptly.  Never 
have  I  seen  a  man  so  shorn  of  independence.  The  world's 
opinion  ruled  him  ;  was  his  guiding  star.  It  may  have  been 
a  necessity  to  thus  defer— in  his  secret  thought ;  his  fortune 
was  still  in  embryo  shape ;  perhaps  he  needed  the  world's 


176  RUBIKA. 

lever  of  approval  to  develop  it  to  maturity.  I  know  not.  I 
only  know  that  he  sedulously  deferred  to  all,  of 'every  grade ; 
that  he  sought — sometimes  by  covert  flattery — their  good 
opinion.  Shrewdness  usually  accompanies  this  quality,  but 
here  again  was  a  marked  deficiency — reluctant  as  I  was  to 
admit  and  cherish  the  truth,  constantly,  in  numberless  little 
ways,  crowded  home  upon  my  perceptions.  He  was  a  good 
student ;  but  his  attainments  he  owed  not  to  natural  abilities ; 
rather  to  eager,  patient,  persevering  effort.  And  with  all  his 
reserve — difficult,  indeed,  to  penetrate ;  -with  your  con- 
sciousness of  his  faults,  and  they  were  numerous,  you 
steadily  grew  to  trust,  to  admire,  to  like  the  man.  What  the 
charm  was  I  could  not  tell.  Ungraceful  the  manner,  it  was  as 
surely  magnetic.  This  reserve,  too  often  mistaken  for  dif- 
fidence, would  not  succumb  to  other  influences,  but  it  slowly 
unwound  the  most  persistent  coil  of  the  same  attribute  in 
another.  He  was  never  confidential ;  of  his  antecedents  we 
knew  nothing;  of  his  purposes,  little.  Yet  he  thawed, 
seemingly  without  desire,  the  frostiness  of  other  minds'  seclu- 
sion :  he  grew  acquainted — by  your  own  act — with  every  fam- 
ily secret,  with  all  your  extravagant  hopes  and  ambitions.  And 
what  did  he  do  with  these  seemingly  unsought  confidences  ? 
He  thrust  them  coolly  aside ;  he  treated  them  with  silent 
indifference,  or  with  that  inexplicable  stony  gleam — it  may 
have  been  triumph  —in  his  eyes.  He  liked  to  impart  knowl- 
edge. We  progressed  rapidly.  Sometimes  Olive  joined  our 
circle.  The  study  hours  were  short  when  she  came ;  and 
though  Aunt  Rhoda  persisted  in  opening  the  door,  occa- 
sionally to — as  she  phrased  it — "  put  a  quietus  on  us,"  and 
took  poor  Uncle  Joel  up  in  the  most  vehement  manner  when 
he  good-naturedly  suggested  that "  she  better  leave  the  young 
folks  alone ;  they  wouldn't  take  no  hurt,  he  guessed ;"  she 


KUBINA.  177 

•was  always  counterbalanced  by  Debby,  who,  imitating  to  the 
life  her  mistress's  manner — would  slyly  look  inside  to  whisper 
gleefully,  "  Go  on  with  your  bird's  egging !  I'll  bear  you  out 
in't.  If  I  was  nimbler  I'd  jine  in  too,"  and  then  suddenly 
vanish,  with  a  wholesome  grinning  face,  lest  she,  too,  incur  a 
sharp  reproof. 

But  joys  decrease,  as  well  as  pains.  February  closed  the 
winter  term  of  school.  Our  evening  lessons  closed  also.  Mr. 
Hume  made  a  round  of  brief  farewell  visits,  and  rejoined  his 
class  in  college. 

The  days  slowly  lengthened.  March,  hoary  and  jubilant 
with  tempestuous  winds,  cutting  the  flesh  of  the  luckless 
traveller,  like  tiny  weapons  of  steel;  searching  the  very 
bones  and  marrow  with  relentless  fury ;  its  occasional  treach- 
erous calms  but  the  shrinking  prelude  to  wilder  bursts  of  pas- 
sion, shrieked  itself  hoarse  at  last,'  and  passed  with  lamblike 
calmness  from  the  year's  calendar.  April,  too,  has  fled — 
sweet  month  of  alternating  smiles  and  tears ;  in  ages  past, 
and  ages  to  come,  the  victim  of  an  excess  of  admiration; 
putting  on  the  glory,  like  an  every-day  garment,  of  poets' 
rhymes,  and  decked  in  the  doubtful  splendor  of  sentimental 
school-girl  essays.  What  need  to  praise  thee,  when  the 
violet  and  daffodil  push  their  fresh  faces  from  their  snowy 
beds  to  greet  thy  coming !  When,  out  of  the  love  they  bear 
thee,'  delicate  forest  blossoms  struggle  manfully  to  the  sun- 
light— mute,  fragrant  flatterers  !  A  busy  housewife  thou  art, 
excelling  all  the  seasons  !  There  is  so  much  rubbish  to  be 
cleared  away ;  the  frozen  soil  loosed  from  bondage  ;  roots 
to  be  warmed  into  life  by  clear,  unclouded  suns ;  seemingly 
dead  forces  to  take  on  their  resurrection,  and^  blossom  abund- 
antly. Nature's  allies  throng  fast  and  furious,  to  prepare  for 
the  summer's  campaign. 
8* 


178  RUBINA. 

May  coquettishly  wafts  us  a  breath  now  and  then  from  the 
tropics.  Pinks  sleepily  open  their  white  eyes,  hidden  among 
their  grassy  spears.  Honeysuckle  bells  quiver,  tremulous 
with  fragrance  on  their  slender  necks.  The  lilac  flings  abroad 
its  sweetness,  and  sends  up  a  colony  of  shoots  around  its 
base.  The  air  is  vocal  with  feathered  emigrants,  wooed  and 
won  back  from  southern  skies ;  content,  it  would  seem,  to 
exchange  orange  groves  for  maples  and  elms,  as  they  flutter 
noisily  back  to  their  old  nests,  and  by  their  cheerful  twitter 
tell  us,  "  there  is  no  place  like  home  ;  no  land  like  that  of 
the  Puritans  ;  no  air  like  that  of  freedom." 

A  languid  charm  pervades  and  softens  the  clear  sunlight, 
and  disposes  to  indolence.  Even  the  toilful  farm  horses  share 
this  mood,  standing  meekly  in  harness  for  hours,  in  apparent 
contemplation.  And  when  the  carts  are  at  last  filled — with 
sand  from  the  highway,  with  stones  from  the  field,  or  decaying 
sodden  leaves  from  the  orchard — and  the  word  is  given  them 
to  jog  onward,  they  do  not  pretend  to  muster  a  trot,  but 
walk  lazily  alongside  of  their  lazier  masters. 

Here,  too,  the  ever-recurring  gray  firmament  of  colder 
months  changes  to  a  steadfast  arch  of  cloudless  blue — 
Nature's  perfect  morning  wrapper,  worn  unsullied,  unwrin- 
kled  throughout  an  entire  day ;  or  a  more  lovely,  because 
less  monotonous  picture,  snowy,  glaciers  of  clouds  looming 
portentously  in  the  southwest;  then,  forgetful  of  their 
threatening  errand,  as  the  glorious  sea  spreads  out  before 
them,  come  rapidly  onward,  so  gently  ploughing  their  feathery 
keels  through  the  billowless  sea,  that  their  motion  is  scarcely 
perceptible,  and,  like  a  flock  of  homesick  pigeons,  they  halt 
with  reluctant  misgivings  midway  on  their  airy  passage. 
And  yet  another,  when  dense,  white  continents,  joined  to 
others  as  vast  by  narrow  stretches  of  isthmus,  discover  them- 


RUBINA. 


179 


selves  to  the  upturned  eye — opening,  as  we  watch  them  to 
show  us  peeps  at  blue  lakes,  over  which  anon  a  fragment 
flits — a  cloudy  pebble  which  does  not  sink,  but  rests  on  the 
surface,  a  veritable  island.  Silvery  barges  scud  across  the 
heavens,  full-freighted  with  shadowy  Cleopatras.  Ay,  fa- 
miliar faces  beckon  and  smile  to  us  also ;  and  the  longer 
we  gaze  the  more  confused  we  grow,  and  scarce  can  tell 
whether  the  blue  or  white  be  uppermost,  or  whether  our- 
selves or  the  clouds  are  stationary. 

However,  May,  to  the  thrifty  housewife,  is  more  suggestive 
of  the  annual  scrubbing  of  the  domicile ;  of  sundry  winter 
garments  to  be  packed  away,  and  lighter  gear  replaced  in 
wardrobes.  To  the  farmer's  wife  it  is  more  suggestive  of  the 
coming  toils  of  the  dairy,  the  hot,  sweltering,  haying  time, 
than  of  natural  beauties.  These  latter  are  taken  for  granted  ; 
enjoyed  with  that  dull  perception  which  cannot  conceive  of 
any  thing  occurring  to  check  or  prevent  their  annual  reap- 
pearance ;  they  are  there  for  all  time  to  be  gazed  at  in  the 
interstices  of  ardent  labor  ;  but  the  daily  round  of  this  same 
toil  must  be  looked  after. 

With  the  advent  of  summer  I  emerged  from  the  chrysalis 
state  and  fluttered  confidently  forth,  a  village  "  schoolniarm." 
This  important  post  was  obtained  for  me  chiefly  through 
Uncle  Jesse's  kind  representations.  Then  followed  the  in- 
dispensable official  visit  from  a  solemn-looking  constellation, 
— one  sun,  and  three  lesser  lights  content  to  bask  in  the  splen 
dor  of  his  beams.  The  sun  was  the  minister,  of  course,  and 
the  satellites  were  the  lawyer,  deacon,  and  "  town  field- 
driver."  My  heart  fluttered  tremulously  on  being  summoned 
to  this  august  presence.  I  remember,  such  was  the  stress  of 
my  anxiety,  pausing  a  moment,  my  hand  on  the  latch,  to 
offer  up  a  brief  prayer  for  a  happy  result,  and  to  summon 


180  "KUBINA. 

to  jny  aid  an  air  of  unconcern.  I  felt  no  addition  of  faith 
after  the  petition  ;  neither  assurance  after  the  struggle  for 
it.  As  I  entered,  the  field-driver  accosted  me  :  "  Take  a 
settin'  on  the  longe,  won't  ye,  Miss  Brooks  ?  Ye  needn't  be 
afeared  of  me,  'cause  I  can  move  along  and  make  all  the  room 
you  want."  He  vented  his  mirth  in  a  facetious  chuckle. 
My  cheeks  burned  at  his  insolence,  powerless  as  I  was  to 
resent  it.  What  more  natural  in  such  an  emergency  than  to 
hide  the  flaming  offenders.  I  turned  to  the  window,  just  as 
Demis  came  tripping  by,  her  apron  filled  with  radishes  fresh 
from  the  garden  for  tea.  A  quick  sign  with  one  hand  asked 
me  if  they  were  there  ?  I  nodded.  She  threw  it  up  in  pre- 
tended astonishment,  and  mischievously  held  up  a  scarlet 
radish  to  indicate  the  similitude.  Then  she  clinched  her 
tiny  fist,  and  shook  it  expressively,  just  as  Elder  Fuller's 
little  figure  crossed  to  my  side  and  peeped  curiously  over 
my  shoulder.  I  chose  a  seat,  and  "  Brother  Storts"  opened 
the  exercises,  with  a  request  to  the  "  Prudential  Committee" 
to  settle  the  terms  of  hire.  The  minister  retorted,  that  "  as 
Brother  Storts  himself  was  that  committee,  doubtless  he 
would  proceed  at  once  with  that  duty."  He  was  answered 
by  an  inquisitive  nod  in  my  direction  and  this  query  : 

"  Wat  do  you  think's  about  the  fair  thing  in  the  matter  o' 
wages  ?"  and  he  doubled  his  tongue  together,  thrusting  it 
between  his  great  yellow  teeth. 

I  considered,  which  pause  was  only  for  looks ;  I  had  pon- 
dered this  idea  previously,  long  and  well.  Speculating  with 
commendable  hopefulness  on  the  probable  amount  of  my 
earnings,  my  estimate,  I  thought,  extremely  moderate.  Mr. 
Storts  dissentingly  shook  his  head.  "  So,  so  !"  he  gravely 
pronounced,  glancing  meditatively  at  the  carpet,  then  quickly 
up  at  my  face.  "It's  too  much  for  the  fust,  onset!"  He 


BUBIXA.  181 

glanced  appealingly  at  the  elder.  The  divine,  wiry,  dry, 
rustling  as  usual,  came  to  his  aid  and  eyed  me  severely. 
"  I  believe,  Miss  Brooks,"  he  coldly  observed,  "  this  is,  as 
our  brother  well  and  truly  observes,  your  first  essay  at 
instilling  the  precious  seed  of  knowledge  into  the  youth- 
ful mind."  I  reluctantly  assented.  "  We  feel  the  awful 
responsibility  resting  upon  us,  individually  and  collectively,  in 
this  great  matter  of  education."  Looking  me  full  in  the  face 
to  impress  me  with  its  momentous  consequences,  he  slowly 
added,  "  We  are  not  in  the  habit  of  engaging  inexperienced 
instructors.  No  !  One  who  aspires  to  this  proud  title  should 
possess  experience,  age,  dignity,  and  wisdom.  Have  you 
these  prime  virtues,  Miss  Brooks  ?"  I  grew  a  little  indignant 
at  this,  and  found  my  tongue :  "  Pray  tell  me  how  one  can 
have  experience  except  they  teach  ?  and  as  for  age — " 

"  Excuse  me,"  he  interrupted,  "  you  have  yet  to  hear  me 
out."  He  proceeded  as  though  I  had  not  spoken.  "  Yet, 
at  the  instance  of  our  mutual  esteemed  fellow-citizen,  Mr. 
Warner,  who  recommends  you  warmly,  we,  after  due  de- 
liberation, and  frequent  implorings  for  Divine  assistance,  in 
this,  as  in  all  other  weighty  matters  of  the  law,  have  conclud- 
ed to  award  you  a  fair  trial.  If  you  succeed,  you  open  the 
way  to  a  station  of  future  incalculable  usefulness  ;  if  you  fail 
— "  he  left  this  blank  to  be  filled  by  all  the  ills  and  calami- 
ties my  imagination  could  devise.  "  You  will,  therefore,  per- 
ceive that  a  reduction  of  your  exorbitant  demands  is  an  im- 
perative necessity,  until  you  have  proved  yourself  competent 
for  a  station  which  is  our  country's  proudest  boast."  The 
little  man  had  probably  learned  this  wonderful  flight  of  elo- 
quence, for,  after  its  delivery,  he  relapsed"  into  profound 
silence.  His  subordinates  wisely  remained  mute.  My  re- 
sponse came  more  meekly.  "  That's  the  ticket,"  approvingly 


182  KUBINA. 

remarked  Brother  Storts — I  felt  any  way  but  fraternal — 
"  we've  ciphered  it  over,  and  I  reckon  'bout  a  dollar  and 
twenty-five,  for  sech  a  business,  's  the  fair  thing." 

"  It  ought  to  be  sufficient  satisfaction  to  work  for  the  love 
of  it.  That  is  reward  enough  to  any  right-minded  person," 
placidly  observed  Elder  Fuller.  He  put  on  his  spectacles,  and 
pe«red  at  me  over  them — by  this  means  preparing  to  put  his 
mental  laboratory  into  working  order.  Then  followed  his 
grand  wave  of  the  hand,  whereby  he  thug  waived  all  prior 
claim — by  reason  of  superior  talent  and  office ;  and  the  reinstal- 
lation  by  his  humble  luminaries,  who  "  couldn't  think  o'  sech 
a  thing,  raly,"  and  the  final  arrangement,  whereby  each  in  turn 
should  invest  themselves  in  inquisitorial  robes,  and  sound 
the  shallow  depths  of  my  acquirements.  Deacon  Marabee 
came  last,  and  he  had  decidedly  tough  work  to  summon  his 
arithmetical  forces.  After  a  protracted  hemming  for  need- 
ful words,  he  said  desperately  :  "  Miss  Brooks,  what's  'Reth- 
metic  ? — I'm  gun  to  b'gin  at  the  b'giunin',  and  go  straight 
through,"  he  explained  sotto  pace  to  his  fellow-laborers.  "  Did 
you  arnser  that  question,  Miss  Brooks  ?"  his  glance  returning 
to  my  face.  I  replied  in  the  affirmative.  "  Wall,  say  it  over, 
if  you  please,  I'm  a  little  hard  o'  hearin'."  I  repeated  it  ac- 
cordingly. "  Yes  !"  assented  he,  with  a  meditative  air,  resting 
his  lean  elbows  on  his  shrunken  legs,  as  he  stooped  forward 
and  plunged  his  long  fingers  through  his  grizzly  locks.  "  It's 
the  art  o'  numb'ring  though,  rayther  than  the  science  of  num- 
bers, and  it's  a  wonderful  art  too  ;  learns  us  to  cipher  and 
keep  a'counts.  It's  the  usefullest  of  all  time-serving  arts,  lake 
it  all  round.  Grammar,  I  never  could  see  the  use  of,  nor  the 
sense  on't,  and  though  the  art  of  jography  is  all  well  enough, 
it  can't  hold  a  candle  to  figgers.  You  notice,  my  young  friend, 
I  call  it  a  tinie-strving  art.  Can  you  tell  uie  what  I  mean  ?" 


RUBIXA.  183 

Seeing  from  his  manner  he  expected  me  not  to  know, 
I  hastily  proclaimed  my  ignorance. 

He  nodded  his  satisfaction.  "  It's  a  servant  of  time,  Miss 
Brooks,  therefore  I  call  it  time-serving.  It's  of  the  earth, 
earthy.  What  a  thought  it  is,  a  grand  and  wonderful  thought, 
I  may  say,  that  in  another  world  we  shall  need  no  sech  arts  and 
sciences.  No  studyin',  or  teachin',  or  nothin' ;  no  committee 
men  to  look  after  the  int'rists  of  the  young,  no  nothin'  at  all,  but 
praisin'  and  givin'  glory  to  the  Lamb  who  was  slain  from  the 
foundation  of  the  Avorld ;  only  castin'  our  golden  harps  be- 
fore the  great  '  White  Throne,'  and  jinin'  the  colony  of  the 
saints ;  the  hundered  and  forty  and  four  thousand,  who  are 
the  redeemed." 

How  much  longer  the  worthy  man  would  have  pursued 
this  exalted  strain  it  is  impossible  to  say.  It  was  evident 
that  he  had  lost  all  sense  of  present  duty,  in  this  rapt  com- 
muning with  the  waiting  glories  of  immortality.  He  doubt- 
less fancied  himself  flanking  his  long  pew  in  Sunday-school, 
filled  with  attentive  Bible  scholars.  Elder  Fuller  recalled 
him,  very  shortly,  to  sublunary  things.  "  Deacon  Marabee  ! 
You'll  hardly  '  get  through'  the  book  to-night  at  this  rate." 
The  deacon  started  bolt  upright. 

"  I  b'lieve  I  kinder  lost  myself,"  said  he.  "  I'm  famed  for 
it,  specially  when  I  git  to  dwellin'  on  the  wonders  in  store 
for  them  that  love  and  fear  the  Lord.  Wall,  Elder,  if  you 
think  it  ain't  best  to  put  any  more  questions  to  the  subject, 
Fin  willin'  to  express  myself  satisfied  with  things  as  they 
be." 

"  Glory,  Hallelujah,"  shouted  Demis,  bursting  into  the 
room  immediately  the  last  had  vanished  from  the  '  yard.'  "  I 
never  saw  any  tiling  like  it  in  all  my  born  days.  Here  they've 
stayed,  and  stayed  three  blessec1.  hours,  and  I  wanted  to  go 


184:  RTTBINA. 

strawberrying.  I  declare,  it  is  too  bad,"  and  she  energetically 
gesticulated  to  such  an  extent  toward  the  retreating  figures, 
that  the  spying  orbs  of  her  mother  caught  and  transfixed 
her  ;  she  told  her  to  "  stop  that  in  short  order ;  she  wonder- 
ed if  she  wasn't  afeard  to  show  sech  disrespect  to  aged  Chris- 
tians. She  should  expect  a  judgment  to  foller.  The  Lord 
didn't  tolerate  irreverence  to  his  followers," — concluding  by 
an  urgent  recommendation  to  read  the  Bible  story  of  the 
bears,  who  destroyed  the  boys  for  insulting  the  aged  prophet^ 
Demis  laughed. 

"  What  now,  Miss  Sauce-box  ?"  angrily  interrogated  her 
mother. 

"  Oh,  nothing !  I  have  my  misgivings  on  some  of  those 
stories  you  are  always  quoting." 

"  Yis,  I  dare  say,  and  I  have  mine  on  some  others,"  re- 
joined Aunt  Rhoda,  nodding  her  cap-border  ironically ;  "  one 
is,  that  you'll  never  come  to  no  good  end,  Demis  Martin,  and 
the  sooner  you  know  it,  the  better." 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

MONDAY  morning  found  me  fully  equipped  for  my  new 
station ;  with  the  approved  rudiments  of  learning  done  up 
in  blue  covers,  and  packed  away  in  my  satchel.  I  had  a 
deal  of  gratuitous  advice  from  Mark,  and  sympathy  from 
Demis,  with  promises  of  sundry  visits,  and  fervent  hopes 
from  Deborah,  that  "I  shouldn't  git  starved  out,  for,"  she 
observed,  "  you  know  them  fact'ry  bugs  ain't  much  of  any 
hand  at  cookin' ;  they  do  as  well's  they  know  how,  I  s'pose  ; 
poor  creeturs,  they  ain't  to  blame  for  what  they  don't  know ; 
we  none  of  us  be.  Now  !"  she  decisively  added,  "  I've 


EUBINA.  185 

put  up  some  doughnuts  and-  cookies  for  you,  to  whet  your 
bill  on  when  you  git  hungry,  though  you  must  make  a  show 
of  eatin'  when  you  go  to  the  table,  else  they'll  be  as  high  as 
nine  'bout  it.  Them  kind  o'  folks  are  so  dreadful  'fraid  of 
beln'  slighted,  you  know ;  allers  on  the  watch  to  see  if  some- 
body a  leetle  better  off  don't  look  down  on  'em.  /  know  'em 
of  old.  Now,  I  don't  expect  you'll  have  much  but  griddle-cakes 
and  brown  sugar ;  the  butter  '!!  be  frowey,  too,  see  if  'taint  5 
]^ut  if  you're  cunnin'  'bout  it,  you  can  manage  so's  not  to 
swaller  one  morsel.  I  remember  Lovicy  Lovejoy's  tellin'  'bout 
goin'  to  sowin'  s'ciety  at  one  of  them  housen — Miss  Hicock's, 
I  b'lieve  'twas.  At  any  rate  she  was  a  church  member,  and 
she'd  tended  up  putty  regular  to  the  others,  and  asked  'em 
to  meet  with  her.  What  to  do  they  didn't  know.  They 
put  it  off  and  put  it  off  as  long  as  they  could ;  fust  one 
would  speak  for  it,  a  little  grain  ahead,  you  see,  Ruby,  and 
then  another,  till  they  couldn't  put  it  off  no  longer,  and  they 
finally  'pinted  a  day  for't.  I  see  Lovice  that  day.  She  felt 
like  death  'bout  goin' ;  they're  so  pisen  nasty  at  Hicock's. 
She  laughed,  and  said  she  expected  to  eat  her  peck  o'  dirt 
afore  she  died,  but  she  leetle  ruther  pick  out  the  kind,  and 
she'd  a  good  deal  rutherer  not  eat  it  with  her  eyes  wide  open. 
Wall,  only  three  of  the  s'ciety  went.  They  all  had  '  com- 
pany come'  that  day.  Kinder  unexpected,  you  know.  'Twas 
in  the  spring  o'  the  year,  and  some  was  all  torn  up  a  cleanin'. 
Mrs.  Martin  was  among  them  kind  ;  so  tuckered  out  that  she 
didn't  feel  able  to  ride  up  there.  I  must  say  I  never  knew 
her  to  stay  to  hum  on  that  a'count,  afore  or  sence.  Wall, 
what  to  do  they  didn't  know ;  but  they  finally  fell  to  and 
sewed  till  dark,  and  then  was  invited  out  to  tea  as  crank  as 
ever  you  see.  Lovice  is  a  sly  crittur.  /  never  should  a 
thought  o'  comin'  the  game  she  did  ;  more  likely  than  not  I 


186  RUBINA. 

should  have  been  tuk  with  a  powerful  headache,  or  a  sour 
stomach,  or  somethin'  o'  that  kind  ;  but,  no  !  She  was  well 
enough,  and  started  up  as  spry  as  a  last  year's  cricket,  as  if 
she  was  so  hungry  she  couldn't  wait,  and  dreadful  'fraid  she 
shouldn't  git  t'the  supper-table  afore  the  rest.  She's  told  me 
sence  it  did  her  a  heap  o'  good  to  look  round 'and  see  the 
others  a  worryin'  down  the  vittals.  They  couldn't  do  no 
otherwise,  you  know.  Miss  Purse  said  she  thought  she  could 
take  a  stiff  lobelia  'metic  when  she  got  home,  and  so  she 
put  in  and  eat.  Wall,  what'd  Lovicy  do,  but  take  a  piece 
of  ev'ry  thing  that  was  passed  round ;  four  kinds  of  cake, 
and  three  biscuits,  great,  yeller,  sour-milk  things,  as  big  as 
your  fist,  and  a  whoppin'  piece  o'  mince-pie  in  t'the  bargain, 
and  when  supper  was  through  there  want  a  scrap  of  nothin' 
under  .the  sun  left  on  her  plate ;  she  finished  it  as  clean  as 
the  Shakers  could  ask  for.  Walkin'  hum  that  night  the  ladies 
was  a  speakin'  'bout  it,  hopin'  they  shouldn't  have  to  go  there 
ag'in  right  away,  and  so  forth,  and  so  on.  '  Dear  me  !'  says 
Lovicy,  '  How  could  you  eat  so  ?  For  my  part  I  couldn't 
swaller  one  morsel,  and  I'm  as  faint  as  I  can  be.  The  fust 
rush  I  make-when  I  git  hum'll  be  for  the  butt'ry.' 

"  '  Do  hear  her !'  says  the  others.  '  She  eat  like  a  pig. 
She  better  talk  of  folks  bein'  nasty.  She  seemed  to  relish 
every  thing  pritty  well,  I  thought.' 

"  '  Me  ?'  says  Lovice.  '/  didn't  eat  nothin' ;  see  here,  if 
you  don't  b'lieve  me,'  and  she  pulled  her  hankucher  out  of 
her  pocket,  stuffed  jest  as  full  as  it  could  hold  of  crumbles 
of  ev'ry  thin'  she'd  took  at  table. 

"  'Oh,  oh!  why  didn't  you  tell  us,  so's  we  could  a  done 
so  too,'  said  Miss  Purse. 

" '  'Cause  I  didn't  want  to  git  caught,  as  some  o'  us  would 
a  been  if  I'd  told  you.  You  see  you  cat  and  /  kept  talking 


RUBINA.  187 

all  the  while,  so  they  mistrusted  nothinV  You  can  try  it  if 
you  git  brought  to  sech  a  pinch,"  concluded  Deborah,  with 
a  sage  nod. 

The  whole  family  turned  out  to  see  me  off.  Uncle  Joel, 
from  the  meadow  below  the  piazza,  waved  his  yellow 
bandanna.  Mark  held  the  horses'  heads  while  Mr.  Warner 
clumsily  mounted  to  my  side.  Deborah  stood  at  the  end 
of  the  piazza,  polishing  her  forehead  with  one  corner  of  her 
checked  apron,  and  smiling  at  me  encouragingly ;  while 
Demis  assiduously  endeavored  to  hush  Annah's  cries ; 
perched  upon  the  gate-post,  she  clamorously  entreated  to  be 
taken.  Even  Aunt  Rhoda  paused  a  moment  from  breaking 
up  the  curd,  and,  looking  through  the  open  dairy  door,  nod- 
ded almost  pleasantly  as  we  drove  away. 

There  is  such  an  exulting  sense  of  importance  in  the  first 
home-leaving,  when  the  fruition  of  a  cherished  purpose  shines 
surely  and  steadily  ahead.  My  dignity  developed  wonderfully 
while  riding  slowly  towards  that  little  grove-hidden  school- 
house,  the  target  for  all  the  eyes  in  the  village.  They  were 
levelled  at  me  along  the  street ;  they  twinkled  from  doors,  and 
peeped  cautiously  around  lifted  edges  of  green-paper  cur- 
tains, as  I  then  thought,  enviously.  A  condescending  al- 
moner is  pity ;  abundant,  uncostly  alms  I  bestowed  upon 
those  unconscious  recipients. 

"  Dear  me,  sus  !"  sighed  Uncle  Jesse,  as  we  neared  the  place. 
"  Sister  Charity  was  a  sayin'  this  very  mornin'  that  it  seemed 
so  strange  to  think  that  one  of  her  old  scholars  was  steppin' 
inter  her  shoes.  It  shows  there's  no  stannin'  still.  We're 
gittin'  older  and  older  ev'ry  day.  Sister  Charity's  putty 
poorly  :  she  don't  pick  up  very  fast,"  he  added,  reflectively. 
"  See,  Ruby,  ain't  there  a  swarm,  now  ?" 

We  had  stopped  in  the  midst  of  a  noisy  throng  of  lads 


188  RUBIXA. 

and  lasses :  the  former  suddenly  beginning  tree  ascensions 
with  brown,  bare  feet ;  the  latter,  bright  with  pink  ruffled 
aprons,  and  green  gingham  sun-bonnets,  whose  strings  they 
were  industriously  chewing.  I  determined  to  organize  my 
kingdom  precisely  after  the  manner  of  Miss  Charity's  old 
regime ;  so  I  placed  a  piece  of  paper  on  the  corner  of  a 
spelling-book,  and,  leisurely  tapping  it  with  a  pencil,  walked 
up  the  rows  of  faces  for  a  timid  census-taking.  It  was  de- 
cidedly a  work  of  time  and  patience.  One  youngster  gave 
answer  that  .he  was  "  old  Joe  Brown's  boy ;"  and,  upon 
further  questioning,  replied,  "  Dad  calls  me  '  skesicks,'  and 
mam  calls  me  puddin'-head  ;  yer.can  take  yer  choice." 

The  boys  all  laughed,  and  the  misses  giggled.  I  inquired 
his  age.  "  Mam  says  I'se  born  in  the  year  one,  and  I  ruther 
guess  she  knows,"  was  the  curt  reply.  Again  the  boys 
laughed.  As  I  steadily  pursued  my  task,  I  now  and  then 
caught  wondrous  pantomimes  on  all  sides,  liberally  greeted 
with  appreciative  mirthful  sounds.  Then  the  girls,  one  at 
a  time,  darted  at  me  with  wistful  looks  and  eager  beseechings 
for  a  pin,  until  I  wondered  if  they  thought  me  a  'pin- 
cushion, and,  looking  narrowly  into  their  quarters,  found 
sundry  shawls  turning  rapidly  into  infant  forms,  and  under- 
going a  vigorous  care.  They  tore  leaves  from  spelling- 
books  to  plait  into  fans,  and  curled  dandelion  stems  into  long 
ear-rings. 

The  days  wore  away  drearily,  seamed  with  little  golden  morn- 
ing gleams  in  the  shape  of  fresh,  queer  little  bunches  of  violets 
and  daisies ;  of  striped  grass,  southern-wood,  and  sweet  peas, 
laid  sweet  and  cool  upon  my  desk.  Debby's  anticipations  of 
the  meagre  fare  to  which  I  should  be  subjected  were  realized. 
Often  no  roof  would  admit  me,  when  my  sole  resource  was 
Uncle  Jesse's, where  a  hospitable  welcome  was  sure  to  await  me. 


RTJBINA.  189 

The  summer  waned  slowly.  July  passed  in  intense  teat. 
Its  sultry  burnings  breathed  upon  me  almost  intolerable 
languor.  I  grew  to  loathe  my  long  walks  at  morn  and  even 
over  the  scorched  sandy  roads.  My  pupils,  too,  caught  the 
contagion  of  restless  indifference  to  study.  Away  off,  on  the 
hill-sides,  were  patches  of  forest.  Viewed  through  the  narrow 
panes  of  my  school-room  windows,  they  looked  tantalizingly 
suggestive  of  coolness  ;  the  cattle  sleeping  under  the  scatter- 
ing trees  seemed,  indeed,  enviable. 

Utterly  exhausted,  one  sunny  afternoon,  I  fell  asleep — 
my  head  resting  on  my  wooden  desk — when  a  sudden  uproar 
startled  me.  A  new  scholar  was  the  cause — a  tall,  red-haired, 
lusty  lad,  with  small  gray  eyes,  rebelliously  twinkling  around 
the  room,  and  returning  to  meet  my  sleepy  gaze.  He  volun- 
tarily informed  me  that  his  name  was  Andrew  Jackson,  and-* 
saucily  inquired  if  he  should  "  set  on  the  floor  ?" 

I  pointed  to  a  seat.  He  shuffled  along  the  floor  toward  it, 
and  this  banished  my  drowsiness.  I  was  alert  and  vigilant  to 
detect  mutinous  acts,  but  all  went  smoothly  until  the  close  of 
school.  Then,  as  the  last  class  arose,  the  big  boy  remained  in 
his  seat,  surly,  inattentive.  To  my  mild  inquiries,  he  returned 
dogged  answers. 

"You  will  at  once  take  your  place,"  I  confidently  re- 
marked. 

"  Not  ef  I  knows  myself,  I  guess,"  was  the  serene  reply. 
The  class  eyed  me  curiously ;  a  few  smaller  pupils  set  up  a 
titter.  As  I  stood,  meditating  what  course  to  pursue,  survey- 
ing him  with  some  disgust,  pride  urging  me  to  conquer  him — 
he  favored  the  assembled  class  with  a  knowing  wink,  and 
dropped  this  remarkable  observation :  "  Some  apples  are  green 
when  ripe,  Miss  Brooks.  I'm  one  o'them  sort,  ye  see ;"  then, 
after  a  pause  :  "  I  ain't  none  afeard  of  my  granny,"  at  the 


190  RUBINA. 

same  time  rising,  and  slowly  turning  pivot-like  on  one  heel, 
a  hand  grasping  his  other  ancle. 

His  insolent  coolness  exasperated  me.  I  felt  suddenly, 
through  all  my  veins,  the  strength  of  a  tiger.  Once  fairly  in 
my  grasp,  it  seemed  as  if  I  could  crush  him  like  an  egg-shell. 
A  thought  seized  me.  I  advanced  cautiously,  and  slyly 
putting  out  my  foot,  as  he  continued  his  careless  swinging 
— anon,  leering  at  the  silent  class,  he  tripped  and  fell  headlong 
to  the  floor.  Having  once  got  the  advantage,  I  retained  it ; 
calling  one  of  the  larger  boys  to  my  aid,  we  hound  him 
securely.  His  rage,  his  mad  struggles,  were,  for  a  time, 
furious.  Oaths  rang  out  loud  and  fierce,  accompanied  hy 
sullen  threats  and  promises,  with  eyes  of  flame,  of  future 
repayment. 

Then,  as  no  one  replied,  or  noticed  him,  he  ceased  to 
struggle.  Shame  trod  closely  on  the  retiring  heels  of  Ire — 
shame  at  the  unprovoked  contest.  The  sullen  quiet  of  sub- 
mission succeeded  to  the  tumult.  I  sought  and  transfixed  his 
eyes  with  a  steady  gaze.  They  quailed.  Sarcasm  is  the 
discipline  for  this  nature,  thought  I.  His  prestige  is  gtme 
among  his  former  subjects :  I  must  make  the  victory  complete. 
In  cool,  measured  accents  I  addressed  him.  I  spared  no  sting 
which  I  thought  could  wound  and  humble.  As  I  ceased,  the 
class  signified  approbation  by  one  universal  murmur,  with 
pleased  looks  at  each  other,  and  expressive,  head-noddings.  I 
caught  a  few  observations,  in  an  undertone,  such  as — "I'm  glad, 
for  one  ;"  "  He  allers  was  a  plaguey  bully ;"  "  I  reckon  it's 
the  furst  day  in  the  year  that  he's  been  took  down  such  a  peg." 

"  Shall  he  stay  on  the  floor  ?"  I  now  ventured  to  ask. 

"Yes  !"  "Yes  1"  "  Yis,  inarm,"  came  the  responses — some 
of  them  from  sturdy,  full-fledged  rogues,  who  merited  an  al- 
most equal  treatment.  But  youth  always  takes  the  side  against 


BUBINA.  191 

the  physically  weak  and  helpless,  the  mentally  inferior,  or 
the  conquered.  They  are  fast  allies  just  as  long  as  admiring 
fear  carries  a  compelling  might,  and  no  longer. 

Andrew,  by  this  time,  was  as  submissive  as  a  lamb.  All 
bravado  had  vanished ;  he.  was  actually  crying.  My  eye 
steadily  seeking  his,  compelled  him  to  ask  my  pardon  for  his 
insults,  then,  of  the  scholars,  which  he  did  humbly.  I  released 
his  bonds,  and  allowed  him  to  rise,  and  the  lesson  passed  as 
orderly  as  usual.  This  incident — so  trivial  in  itself — was  an 
era  of  hope  for  the  future  good  behavior  of  the  whole  school ; 
and,  as  for  Andrew  Jackson,  his  respectful  deference  was 
marked ;  his  devotion  was  unbounded.  He  usually  remained 
after  school,  to  walk  home  with  me,  and  one  evening  we  thus 
encountered  Mr.  Warner. 

"  Wall,  who'd  a  thought  it  ?"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  wonder- 
ing look  at  my  satchel,  which  Andrew  carried.  I  took  it 
from  him,  anjl  turned  back  with  Uncle  Jesse. 

"  Thought  what  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Why,  I  heerd  that  are  Jackson  feller  a  makin'  his  brags 
t'otlrer  day,  that  he  wan't  goin'  to  be  ruled  by  a  woman,  a 
milk-and-water  face  too.  I  say,  what'd  you  do  to  him,  Ruby  ? 
it's  took  the  starch  all  out,"  he  added.  I  merely  laughed. 
"  The  biggest,  meanest,  young  rascal  that  ever  trod  shoe- 
leather  ;  wants  to  be  sent  t'the  house  o'  correction  the-  wust 
way,"  he  said  with  emphasis.  "  There  never  was  one  of  his 
kith  and  kin  fit  for  nothin'  under  the  sun  but  to  sarve  as  a 
scare-crow  ;  won't  work,  do  your  best.  Work  an'  they  had  a 
fallin'  out  once  and  never  got  over  it,  I  'spect.  I  was  in 
hopes  this  one'd  keep  away  from  you.  You'll  get  'nough  of 
him  'fore  the  term's  out." 

"  You  see,"  he  resumed,  meditatively,  "they're  so  conceity. 
Can't  tell  'em  nothin'.  They  know  it  all  beforehand.  Now 


192  R'UBINA. 

I  think  that  conceit's  like  chickweed ;  it  takes  an  amazin' 
sight  o'  pullin'  up  and  hoein' ;  you've  got  to  be  etarnally  at 
it,  and  then  you  never  know  whether  you've  got  red  of  it  for 
good  or  not." 

Midsummer  passed.  Broad  fields  of  yellow  grain  fell  in 
serried  ranks  at  the  wide  sweep  of  the  reaper's  cradle — for- 
midable-looking, but  powerless,  opposers.  Over  hill  and  dale 
floated  musically  autumnal  signals.  The  flail  merrily  re- 
sounded. Apples  began  to  drop  from  the  trees  with  a 
mellow  sound,  suggestive  of  ripeness.  Squirrels  ran  nimbly 
along  the  zigzag  lines  of  rails  that  fenced  in  orchards  from 
the  highway.  November  wreathed  in  mist  and  haze  the  too 
vivid  landscape.  The  nights  grew  cooler,  and  left  crisp  dew 
on  the  still  green  foliage.  December,  though  not  yet  come, 
blew  upon  us  from  afar  his  frosty  breath. 

Those  days  released  me  from  bondage.  The  august 
Committee  again  visited  me  on  the  last  day  of  my  service. 
The  children  came  decked  in  holiday  attire,  with  brilliant 
nosegays  of  asters,  ostentatiously  presented, .  and  full  of 
eager  anticipation  respecting  parting  presents. 

Elder  Fuller  made  a  speech,  impressive  and  original.  "  He 
was  astonished,  and,  he  must  say,  confounded,  at  the  wonder- 
ful progress  of  all  the  pupils  in  their  several  branches  of  knowl- 
edge. It  showed  great  perseverance  and  unflagging  industry 
on  the  part  of  the  pupils,  and  great  efficiency  on  the  part  of  the 
teacher."  Here  he  showered  the  praise  until  I  felt  amused 
and  then  indignant.  "  Education  was  a  great  and  a  glorious 
thing  ;  indeed,  he  might  say,  the  only  thing  worthy  to  engage 
the  attention  of  the  young."  He  elevated  above  his  head  a 
dictionary.  "  Here,  my  young  friends,  is  the  lever  which 
moves  the  universe.  This  is  the  keystone  to  all  knowledge ; 
the  foundation  of  all  the  arts  and  sciences.  Show  me  a 


RUBINA.  193 

Plato,  a  Cicero,  a  Newton,  a  Washington,  and  I  will  show 
you  a  zealous,  earnest  student  of  this  book.  Master  it 
thoroughly,  and  you  will  see  the  channels  of  wisdom  and 
learning  open  to  admit  you,  and  overflowing  with  living 
waters.  It  is  a  golden  link  in  the  vast  chain  of  books,  which 
binds  our  land  round  and  round,  and  through  and  through." 
The  children  cast  reverent  looks  at  the  battered  volume,  and 
wondering  ones  at  each  other,  as  the  minister's  voice  sank 
impressively  to  its  lowest  key,  while  he  solemnly  added, 
"  Let  us  pray." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

IT  appeared  tlia',  with  the  advent  of  winter,  Demis's  pro- 
phecy Vas  destined  to  find  literal  fulfilment.  She  informed 
me  immediately  upon  my  arrival,  that  Natty  had  domiciled 
his  chubby  form  under  the  "  great  room"  sofa  the  preceding 
Sunday  evening,  for  the  express  purpose  of  "  finding  out  all 
about  it."  "  Such  a  fright  as  he  gave  us  !"  said  she.  "  We 
didn't  miss  him  till  nine  o'clock,  and  then  what  an  ado,  to  be 
sure.  Debby  was  half  distracted,  running  around  the  house, 
and  shouting  with  all  her  might.'  Finally,  Amanda  heard 
the  commotion  and  looked,  out  to  inquire  the  cause,  and 
after  a  moment  we  discovered  him,  curled  up  fast  asleep. 
Such  a  shaking  as  mother  gave  him.  I  know  she  would 
have  whipped  him,  if  father  had  been  away.  I  don't  know 
why,  but  she  never  did  whip  one  of  us  before  him." 

"  And  when  does  it  come  off?"  I  asked. 

"  Natty  said  about  Christmas  time,  and  Ruby,"  she 
whispered,  "  Mr.  Hume  will  be  back  in  time  for  it  He  is 
coming  to  teach  again  this  winter." 


194  RUBINA. 

"Does  that  make  any  difference?"  I  inquired  half  jea- 
lously. 

"Of  course  not,  my  darling.  You  do  take  one's  words 
up  so.  Only,  the  more  the  merrier,  you  know." 

Dear  Demis !  She  was  open  as  the  day.  Her  frank, 
guileless  nature  saw  no  reason  to  conceal  the  pleasure  with 
which  she  looked  forward  to  the  schoolmaster's  return.  I, 
too,  felt  a  strange  sweetness  surging  through  my  heart,  but 
I  strangled  it  at  its  birth ;  if  cruel  to  myself,  yet  a  kind 
mother  toward  an  illegitimate  offspring.  For  why  should  I 
nourish  the  shy  stranger,  and  feed  it  daily  with  promises  of 
a  golden  future,  only,  when  it  should  have  grown  to  man- 
hood's strength  and  sternness,  to  be  crushed  to  atoms  in  its 
fierce  endeavors  to  be  free  from  unwarranted  thraldom  ? — 
only  to  gather  thorns  at  life's  meridian,  when,  in  its  blessed 
morning,  I  had  sown  foolish  trust ;  the  sting  of  secret  shame 
following  closely  the  slightest  departure  from  the  solid  track 
of  Reason's  footsteps. 

Not  many  days  after,  upon  going  into  the  keeping-room, 
I  perceived  a  change.  The  cherry  table  with  its  blue  and 
orange  woollen  cover  had  disappeared.  The  dimity  cur- 
tains were  twisted  away  from  the  windows.  Chairs  were 
huddled  into  the  centre  of  the  room,  upholding  four  long 
wooden  frames,  fastened  together  by  pegs  in  their  corners, 
on  which  was  spread  the  surface  of  a  gay  "  album  quilt." 
As  I  silently  regarded  it,  the  owner  thereof  appeared,  her 
form  dilating  with  pride,  and  pointed  out  the  most  precious 
squares. 

"  There's  pieces  of  all  the  girl's  dresses,"  said  she.  "  I  f-hall 
take  lots  of  real  solid  comfort  lookin'  at  'em.  They  wrote 
their  names  in  the  centre,  you  see,  and  give  'em  to  me  to  set 
together.  It's  the  fashion  here,  when  a  girl  gits  married." 


EUBINA.  195 

"  Then  your  have  made  up  your  mind  to  be  married,"  I  said, 
prudently  averting  my  gaze  to  the  autographs  before  me. 

"  Yis  !  I  don't  mind  tellin'  you.  Demis  is  such  a  hector, 
I  never  can  tell  her  any  secrets  ;  she'll  laugh  you  right  in  the 
face.  It's  comin'  off  Thanksgivin',  an'  father  says,  that,  bein' 
the  first  to  go,  I  shall  have  a  real  rouser  of  a  weddin'." 

"  Why  didn't  your  friends  here  have  one  write  their  names?" 
I  asked,  pointing  to  the  straggling  hieroglyphics;  running 
"  up  hill,"  and  "  down  hill,"  and  into  corners ;  some  bravely 
starting  near  the  centre  of  a  block,  with  .bold  capitals ;  but, 
getting  cramped  for  finishing  space,  dwindling  gradually  to 
letters  of  fairy-like  minuteness ;  others,  dwarfed  at  the  start- 
ing point,  but  swelling  to  a  fatness  truly  aldermanic,  as  they 
ran  along  the  white  centre;  some  with  extravagant  twists 
and  quirls,  as  if  just  at  that  juncture  the  authors  thereof  had 
been  suddenly  seized  with  colic,  and  unable  to  prevent  the 
letters  from  assuming  sympathetic  contortions. 

She  gave  me  a  surprised  look.  "  I  like  it  a  thousand  deal 
better  as  it  is,"  she  said.  "  Its  jest  as  they  write.  I  guess 
none  on  'em  ever  saw  the  inside  of  a  writin'  school,  though ; 
none,  but  the  Purse  girls.  Look  there  !  You  can't  ask  for 
harn'somer  writin'  than  that  of  Olive's  name,  I'm  sure,"  and 
she  bent  a  searching  glance  around  the  frame.  "  Rubiny," 
she  continued,  "  I  don't  want  to  draw  you  inter  harness,  as 
soon's  you  step  foot  in  the  house,  but — "  she  hesitated  so 
long,  that  I  looked  up  in  surprise ;  she  was  not  often  chary 
of  asking  favors.  "  Oh  !  only  to  make  a  silver  cake  for  me. 
I  want  a  nice  tea ;  the  girls  always  tell  what's  on  the  table, 
when  they  git  home.  Have  you  seen  my  settin'  out  ?"  she 
abruptly  inquired.  "  Come  on,  and  I'll  show  it  t'  you.  I 
s'pose  the  girls'll  have  to  have  a  squint  at  it  too." 

She  proceeded  on  up  the  stairs  into  the  "  east  chamber," 


196  RUBINA. 

and  opening  a  capacious  chest,  proudly  lifted  out  for  my  inspec- 
tion, piles  on  piles  of  the  whitest  imaginable  linen,  the  labori- 
ous accumulations  of  years,  fragrant  of  sweet  cloves,  spices,  and 
dried  rose-leaves,  with  her  name  in  full,  marked  in  colored 
cross-stitch  upon  each.  She  appeared  to  take  immense  satis- 
faction in  my  looks  of  pleased  surprise,  and  replaced  them  with 
lingering  fondness,  pausing  to  settle  and  smooth  their  strong, 
glossy  folds.  Then,  she  opened  a  closet  door,  and  pointed 
to  the  shelves,  laden  with  blankets  and  quilts.  There  were 
"  rose  counterpanes,"  in  blue  and  white,  and  red  and  white. 
There  were  blankets,  in  coarse  check,  fine  check,  and  plain ; 
and  thick-padded  "  comfortables,"  tied  with  great  knots  of 
blue  yarn  ;  and  quilts,  in  "  basket"  pattern,  with  handles,  and 
without  handles,  to  suit  the  most  fastidious  taste ;  in  large 
stars,  and  small  stars,  stars  with  four  points,  and  seven  points, 
and  with  rings  in  their  centres,  and  one,  "  Lone  Star  of 
Texas."  There  were  "  chains,"  and  "  wild  goose  chases," 
and  rose-buds,  and  one  of  a  zigzag  pattern,  called  "  herring- 
bone." And  one  huge  sunflower  pattern,  looking,  as  Debby 
declared,  "  as  nat'ral  as  life :"  and  also  a  "  butterfly" — 
emerald  green  and  "  turkey  red,"  insects  of  a  shape  unknown 
to  Audubon,  skimming  over  a  field  of  pure  white,  feuced  in 
by  a  yellow  binding.  And  lo  !  "  the  Mississippi  Valley"  was 
there;  and  a  grand  old  "Irish  cross,"  and  "a  circle  round, 
the  moon,"  besides  other  suggestive  titles,  too  numerous  to 
specify ;  and  the  first,  on  which  she  tried  her  undeveloped 
powers. 

"  Who'd  ever  a  thought  I'd  a  made  such  a  piece  o'  work 
on't  as  that  is  ?"  she  said,  surveying  it  scornfully  ;  "  it'll  do 
though  for  the  hired  man's  bed,  if  we  ever  have  one,"  and 
she  tossed  it  to  the  topmost  shelf. 

There  were  white  spreads,  with  heavy  tasselled  fringes,  and 


RUBINA.  197 

netted  fringes,  and  thick  knitted  "  edging ;"  piles  of  dimity 
"  valances,"  and  pillow-cases,  and  "  ticks"  for  straw  and 
feathers.  In  short,  all  that  a  reasonable  girl  could  desire. 
To  please  Amanda,  I  gave  the  articles  a  lengthy  survey. 
"  It's  tol'rable,  I  think,"  she  complacently  observed.  "  About 
as  good  as  most  girls  git.  Mother'd  feel  streaked  enough  if 
it  wan't ;  and  I  hain't  asked  no  odds  of  nobody.  I  made  'em 
all  myself." 

"  That's  the  reason  you  keep  your  room  so  much,  I  sup- 
pose." 

.  "  Certain !  mother  wouldn't  have  all  these  traps  roun' 
down-stairs.  I've  taken  sights  of  comfort  up  here,  mor'n 
I  shall  ever  see  again,  I'm  afraid,"  And  she  gave  a  senti- 
mental sigh.  u  Mother's  goin'  to  make  me  a  carpet,  and  then 
I  shall  -be  whole-footed." 

The   quilters   assembled   early.      "Fust   and    foremost," 
growled  Debby,  as  Miss  Harriet  Ann  Carr,  arrived. 

She  may  be  truthfully  described  as  a  maiden,  tall,  tanned,  and 
skinny,  of  doubtful  age,  poor  memory,  and  decided  leanings 
toward  the  state  of  matrimony.  By  the  persevering  saving- 
of  "milk  money"  she  had  attained  to  gold  spectacles,  becom- 
ing "  near  sighted  with  waning  youth  ;" — a  fact  she  freely 
lamented,  averring  it  to  be  "  a  great  pity  that  young  folks 
couldn't  git  along  without  glasses ;  it  makes  'em  look  so  old- 
grannyfied,  you  know,"  always  ending  piously  with,  "  Wall, 
.  "what  can't  be  cured,  must  be  endured."  She  was  fond,  too, 
of  smelling  of  any  one's  open  snuff-box,  remarking  the  while, 
"  Mother  laughs  to  beat  all ;  but,  I  do  really,  and  always  did 
like  the  smell  of  black  snuff,  with  a  bean  in  it;  jest  a  whiff 
ye  know."  Mellissa  Prince  was  there,  with  her  insinuating 
glances,  and  perpetual  "  they  says,"  and  envious  construc- 
tions of  innocent  remarks,  accompanied  by  her  sister  "Frances 


198  RUBESTA. 

Awgusty,"  bold,  rude,  and  disagreeable,  given  to  constant, 
head-tossings  and  giggles.  Olive,  with  her  pale  oval  face, 
and  deep  hazel  eyes,  reflecting  earnest  truth,  set  them  all 
right  occasionally  in  their  wanderings.  Amanda,  silent  as 
usual,  went  from  side  to  side,  assisting  to  roll,  and  marking 
minute  diamonds  with  a  card  dipped  in  a  saucer  of  starch, 
highly  colored  with  indigo. 

Toward  sunset,  Deborah  came  in  to  inspect  the  quilting. 
As  she  peered  curiously  over  the  noisy  girls'  shoulders,  she . 
was  eagerly  importuned  to  tell  their  fortunes.  A  shadow 
crossed  her  face,  as  she  looked  around  the  group.  "  Law's 
sakes,  gals,"  she  said,  "  I've  told  'em  to  you  dozens  o'  times, 
and  married  you  off,  «nd  that's  all  the  good  it  does ;  you 
won't  foller  'em,  so  what's  the  use  ?" 

"  No  !"  interrupted  Kitty,  "  you  never  told  mine." 
"  'Cause  I  think  you're  clear  quill,  you  know,  and  can  git 
along  without  it,  fur'zi  know." 

"  Nonsense  !"cried  Miss  Kitty,  "  and  you  won't  tell  Ruby's." 
"  Well,"  said  Debby,  slowly,  "  I've  never  had  the  heart  to 
tell  Rubiny  her'n  ;  for  the  fust  night  she  come  here,  goin'  on 
seven  year  ago,  I  saw  in  her  countenance  a  long  life  of 
trouble  ;  I  hain't  seen  nothin'  yit  to  make  me  alter  my  mind. 
See  here  !"  she  eagerly  clutched  my  hand,  and  spread  open 
the  palm,  "  Did  any  on  ye  ever  see  sech  lines  as  them  before  ? 
so  deep  !  hundreds  of  'em,  crossin'  and  crcrssin'  each  other  ; 
the  line  of  life  is  long  and  deep !  she'll  live  to  be  old ! 
then,  see  where  others  cross  it.  I  tell  you,  gals,  when 
you  see  that — which  you  won't  very  often — it  says,  as 
plain  as  plain  can  'be,  trouble  and  worriment  and  care.  I 
can't  tell  ye  nothing  pleasant,"  she  shortly  said,  flinging  away 
my  hand,  as  though  it  stung  her.  "  I  see,  by  yer  looks,  ye 
don't  b'lieve  nothin'  in't,  but  that  don't  make  no  differ- 


RUBINA.  199 

ence.  'Tain't  Faith  as  makes  our  fortins  come  true.  Ye  never 
can  be  prepared  for  it  nuther.  It  takes  ye  onexpected ;  when 
yc  think  ye've  got  clear  o'one.  p'int,  it'll  come  in  anuther.  I  see 
it  as  plain  as  day.  You'll  make  friends,  maybe,  but  you  won't 
keep  'em  ;  'twon't  be  your  fault  though.  .It  is  to  be.  Some'll 
die.  Them  you  love  best,  o'  course ;  that's  allers  the  way. 
Some'll  desert  you,  and  it'll  seem  to  you  for  jest  nothin'  at  all. 
You'll  be  as  poor  as  Job's  turkey  all  the  days  of  your  life  ; 
live  alone,  and  sorrowful,  and,  like's  not,  die  in  the  poor-house. 
There's  more,  too,  and  worse ;  want  to  hear  it  ?"  she  asked, 
suddenly.  ,  ».-.  ,.. 

"  No  !  that  is  sufficient,  I  think,"  said  Kitty.  "  You're 
gloomy  as  the  grave,  Debby.  Ruby,  though,  dtm't  look  as 
if  she  put  much  faith  in  your  prediction.  That's  one  com- 
fort. Now  beware,  in  telling  mine,  how  you  make  it  up  out 
of  whole  cloth.  It  must  be  true  as  the  Gospel,  and  not  half 
as  tedious ;  and  if  you  forget  the  marrying  part,  I'll  never  for- 
give you.'  I'm  bound  not  to  be  an  old  maid."  The  little 
hoiden  shook  her  fists  at  the  seer,  and  hummed  lightly,  "  Oh, 
Canaan,  'tis  my  happy  land." 

"  Do  you  think  I  make  fortins,  Miss  Kitty  ?"  said  Debby, 
scornfully.  "  If  you  do,  you're  much  mistaken.  I  only  reads 
what's  writ  for  me  in  the  book  o'  Fate.  When  I  tell  'em,  in 
'arnest,  they  allers  come  true.  Them  flyaways,"  she  added, 
contemptuously,  "  I  talk  nonsense  to  ;  there's  nothin'  re- 
markable in  their  futur'.  They'll,  some  on  'em,  git  married, 
most  likely,  and  have  nine  or  ten  young  ones  apiece,  mostly 
boys  and  gals,  and  they'll  die  when  their  time  comes,  and 
that's  good  enough  for  anybody,  I  think." 

"  Well,"  said  Kitty,  laughing,  "  I  always  knew  that  I  was 
remarkable,  but  strangely  enough  no  one  at  home  will  agree 
with  me  in  that  opinion.  Much  obliged  to  you,  Deborah." 


200  EUBINA. 

Debby  stooped  quickly,  and  lifted  the  black  sparkling  eyes 
upward.  "  Poor  child  !"  she  said,  fondly  ;  "  who  could 
have  the  heart  to  give  you  one  sad,  painful  moment  ?"  and 
she  turned  to  leave  us,  but  Kitty  caught  her  by  the  hand:  "  I 
demand  to  know  it>  whatever  it  is,"  she  cried,  with  crimson 
cheeks  and  startled  eyes.  We  suspended  work,  and  watched 
the  pair. 

"  I  wish  to  heaven  I  had  not  come  in  here  this  afternoon," 
said  Debby,  solemnly.  "  But  I'll  tell,  if  tell  I  must.  In  less 
than  a  month,  Kitty  Fuller — now  mark  my  words— somethin' 
awful'll  happen  to  you.  You'll  be  stark  livin'  alone  too.  I 
see  a  brook,  as  plain  as  plain  can  be.  It's  red  too  ;  red  as 
blood.  Oh !  dear,  how  glad  I'd  be  to  help  you,  but  it's  strong 
and  sudden,  and  nobody  nigh  to  see  it.  I  can't  tell  you 
more ;  but  be  careful ;  do  be  careful."  With  these  words  she 
vanished  into  the  kitchen.  A  silence  fell  on  us  all.  Kitty 
turned  white  as  death,  and  whispered  brokenly,  "Oh,  girls, 
what  does  she  mean  ?  Am  I  to  be  murdered  ?" 

"  A  pretty  idea,"  indignantly  interposed  Demis,  as  the 
noisy  tongues  caught  up  and  reproduced  this  supposition  with 
commiserating  glances  at  the  victim.  "Kitty  hasn't  the 
shadow  of  an  enemy  in  the  world.  I'm  astonished  at  Debby. 
She  feels  gloomy  and  has  vented  her  spleen  in  the  usual  way 
with  her.  /  never  believe  her.  She  may  keep  her  fortunes  to 
herself  for  all  I  care.  To-morrow  she  w.ould  tell  you  one 
quite  different,  if  she  felt  so  inclined,"  and  she  looked  angrily 
at  the  whispering  girls.  Thus  encouraged,  Kitty  shook  off 
the  unusual  feeling  of  sadness,  and  became  once  more  her  own 
bright,  gay  self. 

"  For  all  Demis's  disbelief "  began  Olive  to  me,  in  a 

whisper,  then  mused  absently. 

"  Do  you  credit  it  ?"  I  asked. 


RUBINA.  201 

"  Oh  !  I  was  thinking  of  something  which  she  prophesied 
once,  stranger  still  than  this,  and  it  did  happen  just  as  she 
said.  It's  very  strange "  again  she  mused. 

An  uncomfortable  feeling  crept  over  me,  making  the  merry 
voices  seem  strangely  discordant.  Happy  unconcern  lit  each 
face.  The  released  tongues  flew  wildly.  Olive,  alone,  kept 
rne  silent,  thoughtful  company. 

"  Laws,  gals!"  said  Aunt  Rhoda,  "after  tea,  fold  up  the  quilt 
and  put  it  away ;  there'll  be  somethin'  else  to  tend  to,  I  'spose.'' 

The  "  something  else"  arrived  soon  after,  mustering  by 
twos  and  threes.  We — suddenly  grown  sedate — overheard 
their  agitated  whispers  ere  entering.  "You  go  in  first." 
"  No !  you — you're  the  oldest,"  &c. 

It  takes  a  long  time  to  thaw  the  ice  of  New  England  reserve, 
in  these  secluded  districts.  It  is  as  hard  as  that  wreathing 
the  surrounding  mountain  summits  ;  but  when  spring  forces 
surge  within — as  they  do  surely,  though  tardily — lo  !  the 
crust  cracks  and  quivers,  and  through  the  fissures  you  catch 
a  gleam  of  the  social  fires  smouldering  there.  So  these  rustic 
swains  ventured  cautiously,  with  prolonged,  embarrassed 
pauses,  toward  the  genial  conversational  fire,  rattling  and 
sparkling  merrily  among  the  girls ;  then  they  began  to  get 
their  courage  up,  and  to  hitch  their  chairs  a  little  in  that 
direction,  and  to  change  their  locality,  and  to  walk-  about 
with  less  and  less  restraint.  From  this  stage  there  was  but 
one  desparate  leap  to  the  rollicking  fun  and  clatter  of  later 
hours.  "  Plays"  followed  in  eager  succession.  "  Judg- 
ments" were  performed  with  a  celerity  unsurpassed  in 
criminal  annals.  Jokes  mingled  freely,  whetted  to  an  edge 
so  keen,  that  the  dullest  could  not  fail  of  perceiving  and  ap- 
plying the  point.  Through  it  all  drifted  down  to  us  Debby's 
mournful  tone,  wailing  through  an  old  song  : 
9* 


202  RUBINA. 

"When  last  I  saw  my  Love  to  the  church  she  did  go, 
Bridegroom  and  bridesmaids  they  made  a  fine  show, 
And  I  followed  after  with  my  heart  full  of  woe 
For  to  see  how  my  Love  she  was  guarded." 

How  distinct  and  sad  the  words  came  to  us,  by  the  rest 
unnoticed.  And  when  she  came  to  the  last  verse  her  voice 
rose,  as  if  with  prescient  fear,  and  swept  outward  in  a  wilder 
echo,  midway  between  a  dirge  and  a  shriek : 

'•I'll  dig  me  a  grave  both  long,  wide,  and  deep, 
I'll  cover  it  over  with  roses  so  sweet, 
And  I'll  lay  me  down  in  it,  to  take  my  long  sleep, 
For  Love's  been  the  cause  of  my  ruin. 
.For  Love's  been  the  cause  of  my  ruin." 

But  it  ceased  at  last,  and  as  the  old  clock  slowly  chimed 
the  midnight  hour  they  began  to  grow  quiet,  and  to  speak 
of  leaving.  As  they  waited  for  the  teams  to  drive  up,  sun- 
dry  whisperings  floated  dreamily  round  the  dimly  lighted 
room,  from  couples  blissfully  hand-locked,  standing  in  cor- 
ners and  window  recesses.  I  stood  alone  by  the  fireplace, 
filled  with  painful  reflections,  when  near  me  I  caught  Mark's 
voice  prudently  lowered  for  Olive's  ear.  There  was  a  fond, 
eager  question,  and  a  timid,  tender  response ;  and  then  he 
added  a  little  louder,  and  I  fancied  regretfully  :  "I  have 
made  up  my  mind,  but  no  one  knows  how  hard  the  struggle 
has  been  to  give  up " 

"Who?"  queried  Olive,  archly. 

He  finished.  "  The  hope  of  being  something  very,  very 
different.  I  feel  no  special  calling  for  the  Church.  I  have 
a  dim  notion  at  times  that  it  is  perjury." 

"  You  will  love  it  beyond  every  thing,  when  you  fairly 
begin  your  career,"  she  answered,  with  enthusiasm. 


RUBINA.  203 

"You  would  make  the  better  minister,"  he  responded. 
"  For  you  love  the  office,  and  I  do  not.  However,  the  past  is 
buried.  I  burned  my  brushes  the  other  day.  Let  what  will 
come,  I  never  will  touch  paint  or  pencil  again.  A  grand  bon- 
fire they  made.  I  hope  mother  will  be  satisfied.  I  am ;" 
and  he  bent  a  fond  look  downward. 

I  went  up  to  them  :  "  I  heard  you,  Mark  !"  I  thought  it 
best  to  say  simply.  •  f 

"The  devil  you  did!"  he  replied,  hotly.  "And  what 
business  have  you  to  be  around  listening  ?"  His  brow 
cleared  directly.  "  Oh  !  well,  it's  no  secret,"  he  added,  as  if 
recollecting.  "  This  little  maiden  has  promised  to  be  a 
minister's  wife  some  day  ;  poor  taste  in  her,  I  must  confess, 
but  I  won't  grumble."  His  old,  gay  manner  assumed  sway 
again.  I  gave  him  a  look  full  of  pity.  I  could  not  com- 
prehend such  an  ignoble  withdrawal  of  buoyant,  glorious 
aspirations  to  the  level  of  the  common-place ;  it  looked  to 
my  eyes  but  dust  for  gold,  no  matter  if  the  dust  were  real, 
and  the  gold  very  far  away  in  the  future,  and  very  uncertain. 
Hope  affords  more  and  better  nutriment  for  a  longing  soul, 
than  present  possession  of  something  undesired,  crowned  by 
bitter  discontent. 

However,  I  merely  said :  u  You  have  been  a  long  time  in 
deciding." 

"  Well,  I  am  but  a  vacillating  dog,  after  all,"  he  said,  sigh- 
ing. "  I  suppose  I  shall  be  what  I  shall  be,  however,"  he 
added  slowly. 

"  That  is  incomprehensible  ;  or  does  it  signify  a  theological 
mystery  ?"  He  did  not  hear  or  heed  me. 

"  Olive,"  he  pursued  thoughtfully,  "  I  am  not  eloquent ; 
I  never  can  be.  You  will  blush,  with  deserved  mortification, 
at  my  wretched  failures  in  that  line." 


204  RUBINA. 

As  I  turned  away  I  heard  her  solemn  response,  low,  sweet, 
and  trustful :  "  Dear  Mark,  power  cometh  with  grace  from 
on  high.  I  am  not  afraid,  neither  need  you  fear." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

ONLY  two  weeks  remained  to  Thanksgiving,  weeks  of  un- 
ceasing activity.  A  silk  dress  arrived  from  Chispa,  in  a 
brown  paper  wrapper,  duly  directed,  with  the  proper  shop 
flourishes,  to  "  Miss  Amanda  M.  Martin."  This  was  an  event 
in  the  household ;  and  the  delicate  lavender  and  white  bro- 
cade when  unfolded  and  hung  over  a  chair-back,  fully  justified 
our  extravagant  phrases  of  admiration.  Debby  was  of  the 
opinion  that  "  'Mandy  would  look  like  a  June  pink  in  her 
roas'-meats ;  though,"  she  added,  with  a  view  to  utility, 
"  she  never  can  step  foot  out-doors  in  that  are  gown  in  all 
this  world  ;  never !  Seems  to  me  it's  a  dreadful  foolish  busi- 
ness. If  it'd  'a  been  black  now,  it'd  'a  been  worth  somethin' 
quite  a  spell." 

"She  can  color  it  after  the  wedding  is  over,"  demurely 
observed  Mark ;  and  Debby  instantly  acquiesced,  with  an 
after  rueful  suggestion  that  "  't'won't  never  be  so  shiny 
.after  it." 

Animated  conferences  were  hold  as  to  the  style  of  making. 
Demis  insisted  on  a  surplice  bodice  with  elaborate  puffings 
of  lace.  Aunt  Rhoda  stoutly  maintained  her  point,  the 
"mellon  waist,"  producing  the  argument  that  "her'n  was 
made  up  so,  when  she  stepped  off,"  meaning  her  sister  Han- 
nah's. I  being  a  novice  held  no  opinions, — a  fact  all  novices 
would  do  well  to  note.  The  final  result  of  these  discussions 


RUBINA.  205 

was  the  sending  to  town  the  bride-elect,  to  put  herself  and 
belongings  into  the  hands  of  the  experienced. 

Violent  snow-storms  heralded  the  approach  of  Thanks- 
giving. Huge  drifts,  firmly  crusted  over,  lay  on  vale  and 
hill,  and  in  the  moonlit  evenings  rang  far  and  near  the  merry 
shouts  of  the  coasters.  The  pond,  too,  wore  a  glittering  sur- 
face, but  was  pronounced  as  yet  unsafe  for  the  skaters. 
Days  of  melancholy,  yet  cheerful  waste,  when  the  sky  was 
one  vast  white  plain,  and  the  earth  another ;  when  the  rug- 
ged mountains  wore  a  white  veil,  and  the  hill-sides  lay 
swathed  in  a  winding-sheet,  and  the  vales  were  raised  to  a 
level  with  higher  land  by  means  of  this  kindly  material ; 
when  every  tree  and  shrub  did  its  slender  part  toward  wear- 
ing the  wedding  raiment ;  when  even  the  birds  who  linger 
with  us  change  their  brown  plumage  for  white,  and  only  the 
matter-of-fact  things  of  man's  creation,  upright  brown  and 
red  sides  of  barns,  sheds,  houses,  hold  out  a  sturdy  belief  in 
their  own  better  hue.  But  Nature  does  all  she  can  for  such 
obstinates,  dropping  a  snowy  ridge  on  eaves  and  chimney-tops, 
and  along  the  fences,  to  keep  them  in  countenance  with  her 
— far  and  wide — pure  surroundings. 

Dwight  and,Nathaniel  spent  their  evenings  coasting,  and 
Demis  and  I  frequently  accompanied  them.  Many  an  ex- 
hilarating race  we  had  down  the  long  hills.  We  were  the 
ungrateful  recipients  of  sundry  tumbles  and  bruises,  as,  de- 
spite skilful  guidance,  our  steel-shod  sled  would  frequently 
veer  like  a  worn-out  weather-vane,  and  send  us  whirling  down 
the  frozen  surface. 

Uncle  Joel  looked  up  from  his  paper  rather  thoughtfully 
one  evening,  upon  our  entrance  to  the  kitchen — "  Boys, 
where  do  you  go  to  slide  ?"  said  he. 

"  Why,,  down  by  the  Alum  Rocks,"  answered  Derais,  quickly. 


206  RUBINA. 

"Wall,  I  mistrusted  so,"  said  her  father.  "  I  don't  want 
to  spile  your  sport,  but  I  wish  you'd  jest  go  some'ers  else  ; 
there's  oceans  of  hills  all  round  us,  so  you  can't  go  fur  out 
o' the  way."  After  a  pause — "I'm  'mazed  you  should  go 
there,  Dwight.  Natty  don't  know  no  better.  Don't  you 
know  what  a  dangerous  place  'tis  ?  Rocks  right  below  you 
hundreds  and  hundreds  of  feet,  and  at  the  bottom  a  pool  of 
water,  I  don't  know  how  deep ;  guess  'taint  never  been 
sounded.  Wall !  to  stan'  down  there  and  look  up,  it's  as 
perpendicular  as  that  are  stove-pipe,  and  no  mistake.  When 
I  was  a  youngster,"  he  resumed,  with  a  retrospective  glance 
at  the  ceiling,  ."  I  remember  well  'bout  the  Alum  Rocks ; 
'twas  there  little  Sammy  Miller  was  drownded — went  off 
like  shot  while  slidin',  and  when  they  got  him  out — poor  little 
feller !  I  never  see  anybody  so  hack'd  and  hew'd.  I  stood  roim' 
while  they  searched.  You  remember  it,  don't  you,  Rhody  ?" 

"  Yis,  indeed !"  said  she  ;  "  'twas  an  awful  Providence ; 
and  his  father  was  killed  in  the  fallen'  mill,  right  away  after ; 
got  ketched  in  the  belt,  and  couldn't  stop ;  went  over  and 
over  the  big  wheel.  Poor  Widder  Miller's  had  a  pretty  hard 
time  on't,  take  it  all  round ;  allers  been  as  poor  as  Job's 
turkey,  and  allers  will  be.  I  remember  it  well,  Joel,  'cause 
Elder  Lee  preached  a  powerful  affectin'  discourse.  Le'me 
see !  I  haint  forgot  the  text,  I  guess  :  '  The  ways  of  the  Lord 
are  wonderful,  and  past  finding  out.'  I  shan't  forget  it  to  my 
dyin'  day.  Though,  comin'  hum  from  meetin',  Miss  Purse 
said  that  'twan't  a  primin'  to  the  one  he  preached  when  her 
grand'ther  died,  down  in  Chicopee  Valley.  He  was  brought 
here,  you  kno.w,  Joel.  Everybody  said  'twas  foolish  to  send 
so  far  for  a  minister,  and  then  come  right  back  with  the 
corpse,  but  'twas  his  request,  and  them  things  should  allers  be 
attended  two." 


RUBIN  A.  207 

"  Wall,  wall,"  said  Uncle  Joel,  uneasily. .  "Mind  you  don't 
go  anywheres  near  that  place  agin.  I  shan't  take  a  mite  o' 
comfort  ef  you  do." 

"  I  must  say,"  remarked  Aunt  Rhoda,  the  next  morning, 
coming  into  the  keeping-room,  where  Demis  and  I  sat  pla- 
cidly sewing  carpet-rags — long  strips  of  gay  colors,  and 
winding,  as  fast  as  we  joined  the  ends,  into  a  huge  ball — 
"  that  are  copperas  sets  beautiful ;  'twon't  fade  nuther,  I  guess, 
an'  it  don't  crock  much,  do  you  think  it  does,  Debby  ?  I 
s'pose  you  know,"  she  went  on,  "  that  there's  lots  to  be 
done  this  week,  and  we  may  as  well  go  'bout  it  fust  as  last. 
After  prayer-meeting  last  night,  I  run  up  hum'  to  Sary 
Purse'es,  and  she  giv'  me  her  rule  for  plum-cake.  She  says 
she  allers  has  good  luck,  but  the  best  people  miss  it  some- 
times. Mine  used  to  be  fust-rate,  but  I  don't  know  what ; 
somehow,  latterly  it  don't  work  right.  It  ought  to  be  good, 
for  there's  enough  good  things  in't.  Deborah  says  I've  lost 
my  knack,  and  sometimes  I  think  so  too.  Now,  one  of  you 
try,  and  see  how  you'll  make  out.  I  thought  that  mabbee  I 
could  prevail  on  Lovicy  Lovejoy  to  come  down  an'  stay  a 
spell,  and  cho*re  it ;  she's  famous  for  wedding-cake,  so  I  up 
and  run  up  there  too.  I  was  sorry  afterwards ;  it's  sech  a 
stretch  to  Biscuit  Hill ;  for  I  had  my  labor  for  my  pains. 
She'd  gone  over  to  Cyrus'es,  in  Little  Falls,  and  nobody  knew 
when  she'd  be  back." 

"  It's  curus  how  that  woman  does  gad,"  put  in  Debby.  "  I 
should  think  in  some  o'  her  travils  she'd  pick  up  a  man ; 
but  she  don't  seem  to,  does  she  ?" 

"  Perhaps  she  don't  want  one,"  observed  Demis. 

"  Humph  !"  and  Debby  significantly  nodded  her  head. 

"  Never  mind  !"  said  I,  impatiently,  "  we  can  make  it,  I 
should  hope.  How  many  kinds  are  there  to  be,  Aunt  ?" 


208  RUBINA. 

She  meditated  a  moment,  resting  the  rolling-pin  on  the 
table,  and  her  arm  on  that.  "  Le'me  see ;  there's  plum-cake 
and  sponge-cake,  an'  pound-cake's  three,  and  cup-cake's 
four,  and  Washington-rake's  five,  and  there's  a  new  kind 
that  the  Purse'es  was  tellin'  'bout.  Olive  see  some  on't  down 
to  the  Mills'es  at  the  Harbor.  It's  baked  in  round  tins,  and 
put  on  top  one  'nuther,  with  jell'  spread  between.  We'll  try 
it,  I  guess,  and  that's  six.  That's  enough,  a  great  plenty ; 
with  cookies  and  ginger-snaps,  and  a  few  sech  like,  in  the 
way  of  small  ammunition." 

"  I  guess,"  said  Demis,  archly,  as  we  got  fairly  at  work 
pounding  loaf-sugar  and  seeding  raisins,  "your  thoughts 
were  more  on  receipts  than  hymns,  mother,  at  meetin'  last 
night,  according  to  your  tell." 

"  I  guess  you  don't  know  every  thing,  Demis  Martin,"  re- 
joined her  mother,  quickly.  "  It  wan't  a  Sabba'-day,  so 
there's  no  killin'  crime  in  neighborin'  a  little  after  meetin's 
out."  She  took  up  an  egg,  and  tapped  it  gently  with  an  iron 
spoon.  "  How  many  does  that  resate  say  ought  to  go  in 
here,  Ruby  ?"  she  thoughtfully  inquired,  as  she  vigorously 
whipped  the  broken  yolks  into  yellow  foam." 

She  re-commenced  :  "  We  had  an  oncommon  interesting 
season  last  night.  I  never  see  sech  a  subdued  look,  as  you  may 
say,  on  all  the  faces.  I  don't  know  how  'twas,  but  all  seemed 
to  feel  as  if  the  Spirit  was  strivin'  in  our  midst,  and  a  callin'  on 
sinners  to  give  up  their  stubborn  hearts.  Elder  Fuller  spoke 
very  affectin' ;  he  said  he  thought  he  saw  signs  of  a  revival 
of  the  faith.  Deacon  Sweet,  too,  made  a  very  feelin'  praver. 
He  said  he  was  willin',  for  his  part,  to  give  up  all  arthlv 
idols  that  might  hender  the  work  of  Grace  ;  and  he  besought 
the  Lord  to  come  and  show  forth  his  salvation.  I  tell  you, 
there  wan't  scurs'ly  a  dry  eye  in  the  room.  I  couldn't  help 


KUBINA.  209 

thinldn'  that  p'rhaps  he  was  the  ordained  instrument  to  bring 
about  what  he  prayed  for ;  for,  as  soon  as  he  finished,  some 
riz  for  prayers,  and  a  good  many  more  looked  as  ef  they 
wanted  to,  but  dursn't.  And  then  the  Elder,  he  got  up  and 
prayed  that  pride  might  be  utterly  consumed,  and  all  carnal 
desires,  and  a  heart  of  flesh  given  'em  for  their  hearts  of 
.stun." 

"  Of  course !"  impatiently  pronounced  Demis.  "  That's 
what  they  always  say.  But  who  rose  ?" 

"  Le'me  see,"  she  reflected.  "  There  was  Avis  Purse,  was 
the  first  one  who  got  up ;  she's  the  only  one  who  ain't  a 
professor  in  the  Purse  family,  and  I  tell  you  her  mother's 
eyes  glistened,  when  she  stood  up  on  the  Lord's  side.  Then 
Ki  Cramer  got  up,  and  arter  a  spell  Lorany  Sweet,  and  then 
Natty,  and  then — " 

"  What !  our  little  Natty  ?"  cried  Demis,  in  amazement. 

"  To  be  sure,"  placidly  returned  Aunt  Rhoda.  "  He's  old 
enough.  I  felt  like  gettin'  right  down  on  my  knees,  to  give 
praises.  I  wish  Dwight  had  been  there.  I  s'pose  its  useless 
askin'  you  two  to  go,"  she  said  sadly ;  "  Ye  will  not  come 
unto  me,  that  ye  might  have  life." 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  /"  said  Debby,  briskly  filling  patty-pans, 
"  nobody  won't  make  me  believe,  if  they  stand  over  me  with 
a  drawn  sword,  that  Lorany  Sweet  '11  ever  git  religion.  I 
don't  care  if  she  is  a  deacon's  darter.  I  mean  the  rale  gini- 
wine  article.  There's  a  sight  o'  professors  now  days  ;  but  I 
don't  come  across  no  praoticers.  I  'spose  there  be  some, 
only  I  don't  happen  to  light  on  'em." 

Here  she  paused  to  taste  the  mixture  she  was  putting  into 
the  oven,  and  to  observe  doubtfully,  "  Massy !  Ruby,  I'm 
'fraid  you  hain't  got  pearlash  enough  in  this  ere.  Seems  to 
me  it  don't  taste  jest  right ;  but  I  don't  know,  -I'm  only  a 


210  RUBINA. 

passenger."     She  gave  it  a  submissive  look,  and  shoved  it 
into  the  oven. 

"  Wall,"  she  resumed,  "  arter  she  came  a  flyin'  int'  the  sanctu- 
ary, that  ere  Sabba'-day,  a  rigged  out  in  the  manner  she  was, 
and  so  brazen-faced  about  it,  too;  I  jest  made  up  my  mind 
that  all  hands  might  as  well  save  their  breath  to  cool  their  por- 
ridge with,  as  to  try  to  convert  her.  You  never  heard  o'  that, 
did  you,  Ruby  ?  Why,  you  see  'twas  in  the  dead  o'  winter,  and 
bitter  cold.  It  seems  sbme  one  dared  her  to  do  it,  so  she 
up  and  said,  she  jest  as  lieves  as  not.  She  marched  in  after 
Elder  Lee  had  got  through  the  heads  of  his  discourse,  and 
begun  on  the  application  ;  right  down  the  broad  aisle  she 
streaked  it,  straight  to  the  deacon's  pew.  The  strangest 
looking  mortal  ever  you  sot  eyes  on.  She  had  on  a  pink 
calico  gown,  low  neck  and  short  sleeves,  and  seek  a  scrawny 
neck,  my  stars !  and  a  black  bombazette  apurn  on ;  she  didn't 
wear  no  shawl,  only  a  black  lace,  veil  throwed  over  her  ears 
to  keep  'em  from  freezin'.  I  never  see,  in  all  my  born  days, 
anybody  so  beat  as  her  father  was,  when  he  looked  up  and 
found  that  apparition  waitin'  to  be  let  int'  the  pew,  lookin' 
jest  as  innocent  as  if  she's  in  the  nicest  plight  in  the  world. 
He  looked  mad  enough,  too.  I  bet  she  catched  it  when  she 
got  home  ;  but  law  !  what'd  she  care  for  that.  I  guess  she'll 
have  to  haul  in  her  horns  if  she  actilly  gits  int'  the  church. 
She  ought  to  have  a  guardeen  put  over  her." 

"  I  remember  it  as  plain  as  day,"  added  Aunt  Rhoda,  "  she 
got  an  awful  cold,  jest  worried  through  it,  and  that's  all.  I'm 
glad  Grace  has  laid  hold  of  her  at  last." 

"  Humph  !  Grace  has  got  a  powerful  tough  customer," 
muttered  Dcbby. 

"  There's  qo  tellin',  but  she  may  be  a  bright  and  shinin 
light  yit.  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and  ye  heareth 


RUBINA.  211 

the  sound  thereof;  but  where  it  bloweth,  or  whither  it 
cometh,  who  can  tell?"  solemnly  said  Aunt  Rhoda.  "Well, 
Miss," — rather  curtly — "  what  are  you  so  smilin'  about  ?  I 
hope  you  ain't  laughin'  at  Scriptur." 

"  No !  mother,  I  was  only  thinking  of  the  prayer-meeting 
for  young  converts  at  Chloe  Scott's.  Olive  told  me  all  about 
it.  I  don't  know  how  Loraina  came  to  be  there ;  but  she 
knelt  and  prayed  with  the  rest ;  she  prayed  for  every  thing, 
and  everybody,  and  finally  wound  up  by  wishing  they  might 
all  have  a  foretaste  of  perdition,  and  Chloe  Scott  a  double  por- 
tion, and  she  went  on  in  the  same  strain  until  Mrs.  Scott 
came  in,  and  sent  her  home." 

"  The  massy  on  us !"  cried  Deborah,  with  uplifted  eye- 
brows. "  I  should  say  as  much." 

"  I  wonder  she  wan't  struck  dead,"  rejoined  Aunt  Rhoda. 

"  Chloe  says,  she  never  can  forgive  her  in  all  this  world, 
never !"  pursued  Demis  ;  "  she  can't  bear  the  sight  of  her." 

"  Wall,  she  oughter,"  said  her  mother,  decisively.  "  It 
ain't  show  in' a  Christian  sperrit;  forgive  till  seventy  times 
seven,  the  good  book  says.  But  Lorany's  a  different  creetur 
now." 

"  I  hope  she'll  stay  so  a  spell ;  long  'nough  for  us  to  see 
how  she  looks,"  rejoined  Debby,  carelessly.  "  Lordy  !  gals, 
how  this  cake  has  riz  up.  It'll  do  for  'em  to  whet  away 
upon,  I  guess." 

Thus  the  week  passed,  filled  with  work  from  morning  to 
evening — void  of  incident,  save  'the  fulfilment  of  Debby's 
sad  prophecy.  All  Northfield  was  startled  to  hear  of  poor 
Kitty's  premature  end.  It  cast  deep  gloom  over  the  village — 
saddening  the  approaching  festivities.  On  hearing  the  tidings, 
I  threw  on  my  shawl  and  ran  up  the  road,  to  see  if  it  could 
be  true.  I  met  Olive  Pierce  coming  down  to  tell  us. 


212  RUBItfA. 

"  Yes  !"  said  she,  "  it  is  true.  I  was  down  there  yester- 
day. She  was  in  high  spirits  as  usual,  and  said  that  she  was 
coming  here  this  afternoon  for  a  visit ;  she  should  ride  Bessy, 
and  give  Annah  a  ride  before  she  went  home.  I  presume 
she  started  with-  this  intent,  for  they  found  her  down  by  the 
red  bridge  dead  ;  her  pony  standing  quite  still,  whisking  his 
tail,  and  looking  down  on  her,  as  though  wondering  why  she 
did  not  get  up  and  mount  him." 

"  Have  you  seen  her  parents,  Olive  ?" 

"  Yes  !  I  went  there  as  soon  as  I  could,  to  see  if  I  could 
be  of  use,  but  the  house  was  full  and  all  in  confusion.  I  could 
only  get  into  the  entry,  so  I  came  away.  I  saw  her  mother, 
through  the  open  sitting-room  door.  She  appeared  very 
wild.  Two  or  three  ladies  were  grouped  around  her.  The 
Elder,  they  say,  is  very  calm." 

"  It  is  a  terrible  shock  to  us  all,  Olive.  Poor  Kitty  !  So 
full  of  life,  and  health,  and  hope.  To  think  she  should  be 
snatched  from  it  all  so  suddenly.  Come  in."  We  had  neared 
the  gate. 

"  No,  not  to-night,"  she  answered,  "  as  I've  seen  you." 
However,  she  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  turn  back,  and  we 
stood  leaning  over  the  low  pickets,  pursuing  the  sad  theme, 
until  our  voices  grew  husky  and  silent.  My  hand  rested  on 
the  fence  ;  she  gathered  it  tightly  in  her  warm  palms'  "  How 
cold  it  is  !  It  is  like  death  itself,"  she  said,  starting.  "  Do 
you  feel  so  chilly  ?" 

"  Not  in  the  least.  It*  is  constitutional,  I  think.  They 
are  always  cold."  She  gently  chafed  it,  until  it  glowed  under 
her  magnetic  touch.  Her  voice  sank  to  a  caressing  murmur  : 
"  My  dear,  you  know  what  Mark  said  the  other  night  ?" 

"  Yes !     He  intimated  that " 

She  interrupted.     "  But  somehow  I  don't  feel  its  truth. 


RUBINA.  213 

I  cannot  tell  you  why.  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt,  but  some- 
thing will  surely  happen.  There  may,  you  know.  It  will  be 
so  very,  very  long  before " 

"  Nonsense !"  I  said  stoutly.  "  Don't  let  us  have  any 
more  presentiments  of  evil.  It's  natural — your  gloom  to- 
night. I,  too,  feel  it,  but  no  sibylline  foreshadowings.  A 
night's  rest,  Olive,  will  effectually  strangle  them." 

"  Then  you  don't  credit  your  evil  stars :"  she  looked 
searchingly  in  my  face.  "  You  don't  look  as  if  you  did.  I 
don't  think  I  ever  saw  you  sad  but  once ;  that  first  night 
you  came  here.  You  had  a  woe-begone  face  then  ;  thin, 
pinched,  and  sallow,  with  great  dreamy  eyes.  When  next  I 
saw  you,  it  did  not  look  the  same  face  at  all." 

"  "Demis  wrought  the  change,  if  any  there  were,  by  giving 
her  rich,  generous  heart  in  exchange  for  my  dwarfed,  sickly 
one." 

"  And  you  have  no  sadness  now  ?"  she  interrupted. 

"  Indeed,  I  hope  not.  If  trouble  must  fold  her  sable 
wings  in  my  domain,  the  quickest  and  surest  riddance  is  to 
smile  her  out  of  the  open  door,  and  bid  her  a  genial  '  God 
speed.'  I  don't  want  her.  She  is  a  guest  as  unwelcome  as 
a  superannuated,  imbecile  cousin  of  the  fortieth  remove,  and 
poor  at  that,  quartering  herself  uninvited  in  the  house  of  a 
rich  relative.  Is  the  comparative  tension  too  tightly  strained  ? 
I  think  not.  I  am  rich — not,  perhaps,  as  the  people  about 
us  estimate  riches,  in  house,  and  lands,  and  safe  bank-stock ; 
my  indigence  there  might  gratify  the  bitterest  enemy  I  am 
ever  like  to  have.  But  that  does  not  trouble  my  sleep  at 
night,  I  assure  you.  In  youth  and  its  wealth  of  vigorous 
hope ;  in  bodily — and,  I  hope,  mental — health ;  in  un- 
daunted energy  and  perseverance,  I  count  my  fortunes." 

Olive   smiled.     "  Yes,"   she  said.     "  Your  wealth  in  that 


214  RUBINA. 

species  of  property  is  undoubted  and  reproductive.  1  never 
knew  a  more  hopeful  character.  If  it  could  go  on  forever 
thus!"  she  added,  dreamily,  as  if  to  herself;  "forever  plan- 
ning and  anticipating.  What  will  she  do  when  youth  has 
departed,  and  health  flown  on  the  wings  of  exertion  ?  Hope 
will  never  beguile  them  back  for  another  trial.  And  old  age 
comes  slowly  but  surely.  Independence  and  fame  are  ha- 
bitually shy  of  approach." 

"  I  will  earn  them  long  ere  that  time  arrive,"  I  confidently 
answered.  "  When  they  turn  to  mock  my  eager  pursuit,  and 
flutter  from  my  grasping  fingers,  I  will  again  give  chase. 
Olive,  you  bird  of  evil  omen,  I  will  overtake  the  fickle  dame 
and  bring  her  to  terms  right  speedily.  The  slough  of  de- 
spondency shall  never  furnish  me  with  more  than  a  night's 
lodging."  She  was  silent.  "  You  little  know,"  I  pursued, 
"  how  much  I  think  of  the  future.  I  am  an  orphan,  with  a 
child  to  rear  and  educate.  I  must  do  it.  I  will  do  it. 
How,  when,  and  where,  is  still  a  mystery  for  that  friendly 
future  to  solve.  If  I  could  leave  Northfield !  I  can  work 
my  way  to  the  light,  slowly,  slowly ;  or  if  my  father  would 
come  back  and  help  to  make  the  task  easy.  Alone  !  that  is 
a  trial,  Olive,  you  know  little  of." 

Despite  her  sweetness,  a  look  of  scorn  crossed  her  face  as 
I  mentioned  my  father,  but  she  quickly  suppressed  it. 
"  That  is  true,"  she  answered,  sadly,  "  but  every  heart  must 
fight  its  own  battles,  and  weep  for  its  own  sorrows ;  my  lot 
is  neither  so  bright  or  peaceful  as  you  think.  Hush  !"  as  I 
was  going  to  reply.  Looking  up,  I  beheld  Mark  standing  in 
the  path.  She  leaned  forward  and  kissed  my  forehead — thus 
tacitly  sending  me  in. 


BDBLNA.   .  215 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  auspicious  morn  rose  bright  and  clear.  Great  golden 
banks  of  cloud  scudded  across  the  eastern  skies,  paling  to 
clear  white  before  a  flood  of  brilliant  sunshine. 

"  Bless  me !"  ejaculated  Demis,  sleepily  rubbing  open  her 
eyes,  *' there's  a  wedding  on  the  docket." 

"  There's  a  wedding  on  the  docket,"  echoed  Annah,  imi- 
tating her  exact  manner.  Children  mould  their  standard  of 
excellencies  in  character  by  one  or  two  persons.  They  are 
not  alchemists,  to  single  out  from  individuals  solitary  traits  of 
goodness.  It  is  rather  complete  attraction  or  repulsion.  Win 
fully  their  childish  fancy,  and  forever  after  you  may  walk  in 
its  innocent  devotion  ;  there  is  no  speech  so  perfect  as  yours, 
nor  manners  more  elegant,  nor  learning  to  surpass  your 
scanty  attainments.  Thus  Annah  doted  on  her  cousin,  scru- 
pulously following  every  action,  repeating,  parrot-like,  her 
quaint  expressions,  until  one  day  Demis  awoke  to  the  fact 
and  set  a  guard  upon  her  lips,  while  it  made  her  love  the 
child  more  dearly. 

Breakfast  was  soon  dispatched.  A  fire  kindled  in  the 
dark,  solemn,  "  great  room."  Debby  said  that  "  the  bewfut 
needed  a  turn  or  two  with  the  wax,"  so  she  polished  it  until 
it  shone  like  a  mirror.  Thrown  open,  it  ostentatiously  re- 
vealed glittering  white  china,  overrun  with  gilt  sprigs,  and  a 
silver  teapot — my  aunt's  wedding  portion,  and  never  used. 
Bunches  of  "  Live  for  Ever"  and  "  Bitter  Sweet"  glowed  on 
the  high  wooden  mantel,  in  diminutive  glass  mugs — the 
latter  adorned  with  a  painted  wreath,  and  the  injunction, 
"  Remember  Me."  There  were  also  a  pair  of  vases,  declar- 


216  RUBIN  A. 

ing  themselves  "A  Present  to  Maria,"  and  "  For  Demis,"  in 
blue  lettering ;  a  peach  of  colored  china,  and  a  companion 
orange,  which  Debby  threatened  to  "  take  Annah  in  hand" 
for  touching ;  a  whale's  tooth  sufficiently  ugly,  and  an  alum 
basket  containing  cards  :  artistic  affairs  they  were,  of  wreaths 
and  scrolls,  testifying  to  the  legitimacy  of  "  Friendship's 
Offering,"  and  signed  by  the  donor's  name.'  On  either  end 
of  the  mantel  towered  in  polished  pride  a  veritable  silver 
candlestick.  The  ponderous  table  supported  the  family  Bible 
and  the  "  Life  of  Adoniram  Judson,"  rather  ludicrously 
flanked  by  sundry  diminutive  profiles  of  the  Martin  family, 
cut  in  black  silk,  and  pasted  on  white  paper ;  looking,  for 
any  thing  the  impartial  observer  could  discover,  like  an  ego- 
tistical repetition  of  one  set  of  features ;  attd  a  pair  of  white 
rabbits,  composed  of  soft,  furry  flannel,  with  brown  straws 
for  whiskers,  and  twinkling  black  beads  for  eyes. 

Heavy  freights  of  uncles,  aunts,  and  buxom  cousins,  "  on 
the  Martin  side,"  arrived — all  especially  invited  to  the  late 
Thanksgiving  dinner.  As  evening  closed  in  over  the  glitter- 
ing road,  rang  fast  and  faster  the  tramp  of  hoofs.  The 
house  was  full  when  the  minister  arrived.  The  dense  crowd 
opened  right  and  left  with  sympathetic  reverence,  and  up- 
turned faces  involuntarily  saddened  at  sight  of  the  broad 
mourning  band  on  his  hat,  and  at  thought  of  the  lonely, 
bereaved  mother  at  home,  weeping  out  her  holiday. 

Words  are  inadequate  to  picture  the  serene  content  of  Aunt 
Rhoda's  face,  as  she  bustled  from  room  to  room,  performing 
with  anxious  care  the  part  of  an  attentive  hostess, — or  Uncle 
Joel's  jolly  complacency — which  nothing  could  fret;  his 
jokes — followed  by  scores  from  other  gray-haired  sires — not 
witty  always^  but  certainly  harmless,  and  hailed  with  raptur- 
ous bursts  of  merriment, — nor  of  the  abundant  table  with  its 


RUBINA.  .  217 

row  of  the  six  kinds  of  cake — each  a  snowy  pyramid — and 
the  "  small  ammunition"  doing  duty  at  corners.  Space  will 
not  permit  me  to  chronicle  the  favorable  criticisms  from 
thrifty  matrons ;  each  was  declared  superior  to  its  prede- 
cessor, and  "  the  best  they  ever  see :"  nor  the  sly  allusions  of 
young  men  and  maidens,  as  they  wrapped  bits  of  the  bride's 
loaf  into  tiny  parcels  to  "  dream  on :"  nor  the  momentous 
hush,  as  the  whisper  thrilled  through  the  throng,  "  they  are 
coming :"  nor  the  solemn  prayer  that  rose,  and  the  simple 
ceremony,  diluted  with  sobs  from  tender-hearted  damsels ; 
and  the  longer  following  prayer,  in  which  the  young  couple 
were  dosed  with  the  nisual  quota  of  desperately  good  coun- 
sel :  nor  of  the  riotous  fun  of  the  succeeding  hours.  The 
last  sleigh  of  "  old  folks"  sounded  its  departure.  Uncle  Joel 
and  his  weary  wife  retired  after  seeing  Annah,  who  resisted 
sturdily,  dragged  away  to  bed  by  Debby. 

"  Now !"  said  Eliel  Prince,  "  now's  the  time.  Mrs.  Martin 
said  we  might  stay  till  midnight,  and  it'll  soon  be  here." 

"  Well !"  remarked  Eben  Skinner,  "  I  fetched  it  along  with 
me ;  but  I  left  it  in  the  cutter.  I  kinder  misdoubted,  if, 
arter  all,  'twould  do  to  bring  it  in.  I  can  git  it  in  a  jiffy,  if 
you  say  the  word." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Mark,  rather  doubtfully.  "  Mother's 
opposed  to  dancing.  She  will  send  you  all  home.  I  give  you 
fair  warning." 

"  I  guess  I  know  that,"  retorted  Eliel,  with  a  chuckle. 
"However,  a  few  good  old  country  dances  won't  kill  any- 
body. I'll  risk  it." 

"  This   room   is   on   the   other  side   of  the  house  from 
mother's,"  observed  Demis,  encouragingly.     "  I'll  close  the 
doors  between,  and  if  you  play  low,  Eben,  and  can  omit  that 
horrid  squealing  at  the  beginning,  she  won't  hear  it" 
10 


218  •  RUBESTA. 

"  Certain,"  assented  Eben,  "  I  tuned  it  all  up  as  slick  as  a 
mitten,  'fore  I  left  home ;  so  form  for  Money  Musk,  if  you 
please,  gen'lemen  and  ladies,  or  ladies  and  gen'lemen,  which- 
ever way  you'll  have  it.  I'll  call  off." 

"  Low  !  call  low  !"  cautioned  Demis. 

I  did  not  dance  ;  but  I  found  ample  amusement  in  watch- 
ing the  rest.  How  they  flew  to  the  muffled  tones  of  the 
little  violin,  and  Eben's  shrill  whisper,  commanding  them  to 
"swing  once  and  a  half  round ;"  "forward  in  lines,"  and  "  ladies 
chains."  .  We  got  a  fright  once,  and  the  dancers  stopped,  as 
the  door  quaked  suddenly ;  but  it  was  only  Deborah,  who 
happened  to  like  music  as  well  as  any  of  us,  and,  after  the 
first  ejaculation,  sat  quietly  down,  holding  her  delighted  peace. 

"  A  leetle  trifle  lower,  Eben,"  she  said  coaxingly  ;  "  I  heard 
it  way  up-stairs.  It's  so  shrill,  I  should  think  the  dead  in 
their  graves  might  hear  it,  much  less  Mis'.  Martin,  who's 
got  pesky  sharp  ears.  She'll  settle  your  hash  for  you,  if  she 
does  hear  it." 

"  Now  for  the  Twin  Sisters,"  called  the  master  of  ceremo- 
nies as  they  paused,  flushed  and  breathless-.  "  Balance  all ! 
Down  the  middle,  and  up  the  outside,"  shouted  Eben,  who 
was  getting  excited.  Demis  looked  hard  at  him  :  "  Wall, 
we'll  rest  a  bit,"  said  he,  wiping  his  streaming  forehead. 
"  Gi !  how  warm  'tis.  I  s'pose  though,  there's  no  such  thing 
as  opening  one  o'  them  doors,"  and  ho  took  up  his  bow  with 
surprising  resignation ;  "so  take  your  places  for  Op'ry 
Reel,"  he  sang  out  in  seamanlike  style ;  when  round  went  the 
mad  gambols  more  furiously  than  before. 

"  Bravo !"  whispered  Mark — also  a  spectator — "  if  mother 
cannot  hear  this  she  must  be  growing  deaf.  She  would  spin 
it  off  pretty  quick  if  she  did — " 

"Do  so  do,"  chimed  in  Eben,  "Down  the  outside,"  he 


RUBItfA.  219 

whistled,  "  Back  to  back !  all  primenade !  seat  your  par- 
deners." 

"  And  form  for  the  Tempest,"  added  Eliel,  breathlessly. 
"  Quick,  boys  !  I  have  a  dismal  foreboding,  strengthened  by  a 
sound  which  smites  my  unwilling  ears.  We'll  finish  this 
though,"  he  cried,  triumphantly. 

"  There's  many  a  slip  'twixt  cup  and  lip,"  muttered  Debby. 

It  was  indeed  a  tempest ;  seemingly  inextricable  convolu- 
tions, revolving  themselves  clear  at  last,  intermixed  with  im- 
promptu "  pigeon  wings"  from  the  masculine  row,  and  the 
unruly  violin  piping  shrill  defiance  to  prudential  motives,  as 
round  spun  the  whole  troop  until —  Suddenly  Eben  drop- 
ped his  bow  as  if  it  had  been  red-hpt,  for  the  door  was  flung 
quickly  open  ;  filling  that  space  stood  Aunt  Rhoda,  with  irate 
brow,  and  flashing  eyes,  and — peeping  over  her  shoulder — 
her  more  amiable  husband ;  his  face  sober  with  amazement. 

"  What's  all  this  ?"  she  sharply  asked. 

"  The  Tempest,"  meekly  replied  Eben,  scratching  his  head 
in  bewilderment. 

"  The  tempest !"  she  echoed  scornfully.  "  I  should  think 
so.  A  pretty  how-d'ye-do  this  is.  I  never  thought  'twould 
come  to  this  in  my  own  house.  Never !  Dancing !  And 
most  on  you  professors,  too  !"  She  turned'  with  a  sudden 
movement  upon  Mark.  "  I'm  astonished  at  you,  Sir.  A 
blessed  example  this  is ;  and  'fore  I'll  submit  to  be  put  upon 
so,  and  by  a " 

"  Now,  now,  Rhody,"  interrupted  her  husband,  anxiously, 
for  mother  and  son  stood  steadily  confronting  each  other. 
Her  face  absolutely  glared  with  passion ;  his — calm  and 
white — was  full  of  the  look  of  a  long-hunted  beast,  fairly 
turned  at  bay.  It  was  the  first  time  I  had  seen  resolution 
stamping  itself  on  those  mirthful,  gently-defined  features.  I 


220  KUBINA. 

liked  the  change.  A  moment  they  stood  thus  in  perfect 
silence,  his  eyes  riveted  to  hers,  waiting  only  for  her  lips  to 
finish  the  sentence.  They  quivered  ;  parted  to  speak ;  closed 
again — compressed  with  strong  resolve. 

Uncle  Joel  forced  a  laugh.  "  Pshaw  !  Now,  mother, 
don't  be  hard  on  the  young  folks.  I  haint  forgot  the  day  I'd 
a'  walked  four  miles  and  over  for  a  chance  o'  shakin'  my  heel. 
I  ruther  dance  than  eat  when  I'se  hungry ;  that  was  'fore  this 
rheumacy  took  hold  o'  me  so.  It's  a  good  joke,  though, 
stealin'  the  march  on  us  old  folks,  arter  seudin'  on  us  off  to 
bed,"  and  he  laughed  this  time  heartily. 

"  A  good  joke,  indeed,"  she  exclaimed,  hotly.  "  I  don't 
see  what  there  is  to  laugl^at,  Mr.  Martin;  and  during  a  revi- 
val too.  It's  the  wiles  of  the  devil,  more  likely.  At  any 
rate,  it's  a  joke  that's  played  out ;  so  pack  up  your  traps 
Mister  Ebin  Skinner,  and  march.  Quick  !  I  don't  stir  from 
here  one  foot  till  you  do." 

In  spite  of  this  abrupt  termination  of  festivities,  all  seemed 
to  consider  the  past  pleasure  worth  the  present  price,  and  as 
they  drove  from  the  door  I  heard  them  laughing  heartily  at 
their  abrupt  dismissal. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  week  following  was  too  quiet.  It  begat  almost  intol- 
erable ennui.  Ira  and  Amanda  commenced  housekeeping. 
The  transient  excitement  this  step  occasioned — the  packing 
and  moving  successfully  disposed  of  one  entire  day — exhaled 
with  the  last  departure,  and  we  relapsed  into  irksome  soli- 


•       KUBIXA.  221 

tude.  Debby,  Derais,  and  myself  filled  the  afternoon  hours 
with  listless  sewing,  while  Aunt  Rhoda  made  neighborly  visits, 
and  attended  meetings.  One  day  we  sat  thus  as  usual.  From 
the  eastern  window  a  wintry  prospect  spread  far  and  wide. 
Twilight  was  prematurely  descending.  The  leaden  sky  gave 
promise  of  approaching  storms. 

"  I  declare,"  said  Dernis,  abruptly,  "  I  never  would  have 
supposed  that  we  would  miss  Amanda  so  much." 

"  I  knew  we  should  miss  her,"  replied  Debby,  in  a  satisfied 
tone. 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  especially  after  so  many  weeks  of  sport. 
Our  sliding  is  over.  Your  mother  has  discovered,  Demis, 
that  '  young  wimmen  grown  did'nt  slide  in  her  day.'  How- 
ever," I  added,  after  a  pause,  "  if  we  play,  Amanda's  carpet 
will  never  be  finished." 

"  I  think  it'll  be  a  han'some  one,"  observed  Debby.  "  Just 
you  Idok  now  at  this  ere  stripe,"  holding  up  a  huge  ball  of 
shreds,  all  colors  and  textures,  sewed  indiscriminately  to- 
gether. "  This  stripe's  called  hit  or  miss,  and  it's  well 
named  too.  It  sets  off  the  orange  and  red  powerful."  There 
was  another  dispirited  silence,  which  Debby  broke  by  say- 
ing :  "  I  "think  it's  downright  gloomy  latterly,  and  'taint  all 
because  there's  been  so  much  junketing,  as  you  gals  seem  to 
think.  I  tell  you  somethin's  goin'  to  happen." 

"  I  wonder  what  ?"  said  Demis,  tartly.  "  You  are  always 
harping  on  that  theme,  Debby — '  Something  to  happen  !'  I'm 
sure  I  wish  there  would.  I  wish  the  schoolmaster  would 
come,  if  nothing  more." 

"  And  what  more  could  there  be  ?"  inquired  Debby,  mali- 
ciously. "  You'll  miss  it  one  o'  these  days,  lottin  on  that  are 
man  so,  let  me  tell  you." 

"  I  don't  care  one  straw  about  him,"  said  Demis,  hotly. 


222  RUBINS      • 

"  "  You  do,  and  you  know  it.     Ruby  knows  it,  too,  if  she's 
got  any  gift  at  all." 

"It's  December,  and  time  for  the  school  to  open,"  I 
hastened  to  observe.  ;•  \m~,  ' 

"  Wall,  set  your  mind  to  rest ;  he'll  haul  in  next  week ;  I 
heard  the  deacon  say  so  yesterday.  What  good'll  it  all  do  ye, 
gals  ?  You  know  enough  a'ready,"  said  Debby,  with  scorn. 

Demis  laughed.  "  I  should  want  to  die  at  once  if  I 
thought  so,"  said  she  wistfully,  u  should  you  not,  Ruby  ?" 

"  I  don't  think  so  now,  Demis.  I  cling  to  life.  It  will  take  a 
great  sin,  or  suffering,  to  bring  me  to  that  desire.  And  then 
I  believe  I  should  prefer  joining  the  Sisters  of  Charity,  to 
contribute  my  mite  toward  assuaging  human  sorrow.  God 
bless  the  holy  sisters  !  They  deserve  the  meed  of  saintship 
hereafter.  Their  ranks  are  never  too  full ;  their  hearts  never 
shut  and  double-barred  against  the  erring.  Their  hands  are 
not  too  delicate  to  minister  to  the  victim  of  a  loathsome  dis- 
ease, nor  too  white  to  wipe  away  the  bloody  stain  from  the 
criminal.  When  good  orthodox  Christian  dwellings  refuse  to 
receive  the  outcast,  and  the  pampered  expounder  of  Christ's 
words  on  earth  puts  on  a  severely  rebuking  face,  and  frowns 
at  her  in  holy  horror,  then  she  turns  to  the  unostentatious 
cell  of  human  sympathy  in  Popish  bosoms,  and  is  never 
denied  admittance." 

"  But  they  end  by  converting  the  heretic,"  observed  De- 
mis,  triumphantly. 

"  Tears  to  me,  if  I  was  one  o'  them  critturs  Ruby's  been 
speakin'  of,"  interrupted  Debby,  "  I  should  be  amazin'  glad 
to  get  converted  over  to  their  ways.  Ev'ry  body'd  oughter 
jine  'em  right  off;  there's  no  two  ways  'bout  it.  I  hope  they 
dont  have  hard  work  to  git  'em  over.  Sech  folks  never'll  git 
very  fore-handed  here,  but  they  lend  to  the  Lord.  Elder 


RUBINA.  223 

Fuller,  now,  talks  a  great  deal  'bout  proselitin',  and  sech 
trumpery.  /  don't  b'lieve  the  Catholics  do  it  any  mor'n  the 
Baptists  and  Methodists  and  Bluelights ;  and  if  I  was  goin' 
to  be  put  through  the  proselytin'  business  a'tall,  I'd  bet  I'd 
go  where  I  could  git  some  benefit  from  it.  Talk  to  me 
'bout "  She  paused,  looking  incensed  at  Demis's  ring- 
ing laugh,  and  subsided  into  a  reproachful  silence. 

"  Go  on,  Debby,"  said  Demis,  wickedly. 

"  Oh !  you  can  poke  fun  at  me  if  you've  a  mind  to,  I'm 
nothin'  but  a  passenger,"  said  Debby,  meekly. 

"  Nonsense !"  I  cried,  "  You're  the  conductor  of  this  train." 

."No,"  she  said,  still  in  a  meek  fashion,  which  never  .re. 
mained  long. 

"  I  remember,  Demis,  going  once  with  my  mother  to  visit 
a  hospital.  I  recall  every  detail  of  the  well-ordered  building. 
There  were  vast  airy  rooms,  hung  around  with  Romish  pic- 
tures, and  liberally  supplied  with  plaster  images  of  the  cruci- 
fixion. The  patients'  cells  were  models  of  neatness.  Sister 
Agatha  showed  us  around.  She  had  a  sweet  fair  face,  which 
even  her  ugly  flapping  bonnet  could  not  spoil.  I  fell  in  love 
with  her  directly.  She  laughed  so  pleasantly  when  I  told 
her  '  I  should  like  to  come  there  if  I  ever  should  be  sick.' " 

"  I  thought  nuns  were  shy  and  gloomy,"  said  Demis. 

"  Sister  Agatha  talked  very  freely.  There  was  a  cabinet  of 
articles  for  sale  in  the  refectory — crosses,  Madonnas,  rosaries 
— the  proceeds  to  go  toward  defraying  the  expenses  of  the 
institution.  She  wished  to  give  me  a  little  crucifix,  but  my 
mother  motioned  it  back.  She  gave  me  a  lecture  upon/br- 
wardness,  when  I  got  home,  saying  it  was  wicked  to  worship 
those  things." 

"  Hark !"  cried  Debby,  suddenly,  as  there  came  a  rap  on  the 
outside  door. 


224:  RTJBINA. 

"That's  a  welcome  sound!"  cried  Demis,  springing  np 
hastily,  and  sweeping  her  lapful  of  woollen  bits  into  the 
basket.  "  I'm  glad  company  is  coming  at  last.  I  began  to 
think  that  our  friends  had  all  deserted  us.  Well !"  was  all 
she  said,  as  she  came  slowly  back,  and  resumed  her  seat. 

"  Who  was  it,  Demis  ?     A  peddler  ?" 

"  I  wish  it  might  have  been,"  she  retorted.  "  I  havn't  seen 
one  in  an  age.  No  one  was  there." 

"  I  certainly  heard  a  knock,"  I  rejoined,  as  positively. 

"  I  thought  so  too,"  said  she,  "  but  it  seems  we  were  both 
mistaken." 

Kap,  rap,  rap,  distinct,  positive,  leaving  no  room  for  doubt. 
I  flew  to  the  door  ere  the  last  vibration,  fully  expecting  to 
catch  our  mischievous  visitor,  but  started  back  in  amaze,  for 
no  one  stood  there. 

"  Well !  why  don't  you  ask  them  in  ?"  cried  Debby,  iron- 
ically. 

"  It's  one  of  the  boy's  tricks,"  I  remarked,  coolly  returning ; 
"and  they  doubtless  are  hidden  in  full  view  of  the  door, 
laughing  at  our  surprised  faces.  It's  an  old  joke  ;  let  them 
have  it  to  themselves."  They  did  have  it.  Apparently,  they 
resolved  to  be  not  easily  disheartened.  On  the  front  door, 
on  the  kitchen  door,  and,  when  we  were  not  looking  up,  on 
the  windows.  The  vibrations  of  one  hardly  ceased  ere  its 
fellow  sounded. 

"  Those  foolish  youths  are  giving  themselves  needless 
trouble,"  said  Demis,  at  last,  looking  up,  and  dropping  her 
work  wearily.  "  I'm  tired  of  hearing  it."  She  cast  an  an- 
noyed glance,  at  the  door. 

"  Them  ain't  the  boys'  doin's,"  solemnly  responded  Debby, 
I've  heerd  'em  afore  now,  when  no  livin'  soul  was  by,  and  I 
knowed  they'd  come  ag'in.  And  they  have" 


RUBINA.  225 

"  Of  course,"  retorted  Demis,  scornfully.  "  They  will 
come  until  they  get  sick  of  it,  or  until  mother  comes  home 
from  covenant  meeting.  I'll  warrant  they'll  stop  then." 

"  Maybe,  and  maybe  not,"  stoutly  maintained  the  seeress. 
"  One  might  as  well  talk  to  a  stun  as  to  try  to  tell  you  any- 
thin',  Demis.  I  tell  you — you  may  b'lieve  it  or  not,  as  you've 
a  mind  to — I've  heerd  them  noises  off  and  on  for  ever  so 
long.  Furthermore,  I  tell  you  that  'taint  nothin'  new  to  me 
to  hear  'em;  but  they  never  come — no,  never!  but  what 
some  one  died  soon  after.  /  know  what  'tis.  It's  a  warniu' 
call.  Now,"  she  pursued,  as  if  relieved  at  having  spoken  her 
mind,  "  I  think  it's  downright  wicked,  and  a  temptin'  of 
Providence,  to  make  light  o'  sech  matters" — we  were  smiling 
— "  mabby  you'll  think  on  what  I'm  tellin'  ye,  one  of  these 
days,  if  anythin'  should  happen." 

"  It  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  nothing  ever  happened," 
I  said.  "  You  know,  Debby,  that  Elder  Fuller  says  it's  a 
deceitful  and  a  dying  world." 

"  He  don't  know  nothin'  'bout  it,"  she  retorted,  with  scorn, 
••'  but,  we'll  drop  the  subject,  for  there  comes  Mis'  Martin, 
hum  from  meetin' ;  and  if  she  is  a  clever  woman,  I  must  say 
she's  dreadful  sot  against  some  things.  I  declare,  it's  time  to 
git  supper  too  ;  after  five  o'clock,  as  true  as  preachin' !"  and 
muttering  something  about  "  seem'  to  startin'  up  that  are 
fire,"  she  trotted  off  to  the  kitchen. 

"  Mother,  were  there  any  new  converts  ?"  asked  Demis. 

"  No,"  she  replied ;  "  no  new  ones.  Some  told  their  ex- 
periences, and  some  on  'em  was  quite  lengthy,  but  desp'rate 
interistin'.  Hesekiah  Cramer  said  he  was  struck  with  con- 
viction when  he  wa'n't  mor'n  twelve  year  old.  It's  a  sign 
we  never  ought  to  give  up  laborin'  for  sinners,  and  I've  hopes 
of  you  yit,  girls.  He  said  he  was  down  sullar  one  day,  sortin 
10* 


226  RUBINA. 

over  apples  ;  'twas  jest  after  a  revival  meetin',  and  all  to  once 
somethin'  come  across  him  like  a  flash  of  lightnin'.  'Twas 
that  are  passage  of  Scriptur,  where  it  speaks  of  sep'ratin'  the 
sheep  from  the  goats.  Said  he  to  himself — '  that's  jest  what 
I'm  doin'.  I'm  puttin'  the  sound  apples  car'fully  in  a  barrel 
by  themselves,  to  keep ;  but  the  old  rotten  ones  I  throw 
helter-skelter  in  a  heap,  and  carry  'em  off  anywhere  to  git 
red  of  'em.  They  are  good  for  nothin'.  Why  shouldn't 
Jesus  do  as  he  please  with  his  own,  and  where  shall  I  be 
when  he  sorts  his  apples  ?  Many  the  windfalls,  I  spect,  or 
worser  yit,  the  rotten  ones,  that  have  been,  or  might  have  been 
good  for  suthin'.'  Wai,  he  said  it  overcome  him  so  that  he 
sot  right  down  to  think ;  and  he  made  up  his  mind  that  he 
wan't  on  the  right  track  to  salvation,  an'  he  up  and  made  a 
string  o'  good  resolutions ;  but,  after  a  spell,  they  sort  o'  died 
away,  and  then  come  another  call.  Like  Jacob  of  old,  he 
fought  sorely,  and  wrestled  long  with  the  sperrit  for  the  vic- 
'try — and  he  did  overcome  it.  Then — he  said — he  was  a 
backslider.  He  had  stuck  to  the  faith  through  all,  but  he 
didn't  enjoy  savin'  grace  as  he  used  to,  and  now  he'd  had  a 
third  call.  He  broke  down,  right  there,  and  for  the  life  o' 
him,  couldn't  say  anuther  word.  I  declare  'twas  a  solemn 
scene.  I  didn't  know  afore,  that  he  was  engaged  to  have 
Kitty,  but  they  say  he  had  been  keepin'  company  with  her 
a  year,  and  over.  Nathaniel's  evidences,  too,  was  satisfact'ry. 
I'm  'fraid  Dwight's  gittin'  hardened  ;  he  didn't  appear  af- 
fected none  while  his  brother  was  talkin'." 

"  Aunt,"  I  broke  in  quickly,  "  were  the  boys  there  until 
you  came  away  ?" 

"  Sure.  I'd  like  to  catch  one  on  'em  leavin  'fore  mectin's  out 
I'd  show  'em  how  to  ride  on  a  fullin-mill,  I  warrant  ye." 

"  And  Mark,  too  ?"  queried,  Demis  incredulously. 


RUBINA.  227 

"Why,  yis.  Seems  to  me  you're  uncommon  cur'us.  Mark 
spoke  quite  a  spell,  and  made  as  good  a  prayer  as  you'll  often 
hear.  He  come  right  out  afore  'em  all,  and  said  he'd  dedi- 
cated his  life  to  the  cause,  to  be  a  gospil  minister.  Arter 
nieetin'  Mis'  Purse  asked  him  hum  to  tea.  I  guess,"  she 
added,  bridling  her  long  neck,  and  untying  her  cap-strings, 
"  I  guess  they  think  he's  good  enough  now.  An  elder,  you 
see,  ain't  to  be  sneezed  at,  and — they'd  be  loth  to  own  it — 
but  they  allus  did  seem  to  think  Olive  a  leetle  better'n  com- 
mon folks." 

I  slipped  away  to  the  kitchen  to  assist  in  preparing  tea, 
Debby  was  in  the  u  buttery,"  with  a  huge  loaf  of  bread  in  her 
arms.  She  took  up  the  carving  knife,  and,  pressing  the  loaf 
firmly  against  her  bodice,  began  hewing  off  thick  slices, 
nodding  her  head  at  every  vigorous  lurch  of  the  knife,  as  if 
to  assist  it  in  working  its  passage.  "  Wall,  child,"  she  ob- 
served, "this  ere's  a  strange  world  we  live  in,  ain't  it? 
There's  a  dreadful  sight  a  goin'  on  all  the  while.  We  make 
a  great  fuss  about  our  goin's  out  and  comin's  in,  and 
after  all — come  to  sum  it  up — what  does  it  amount  to? 
Nothin'  under  the  sun,  but  jest  bein'  borned,  bein'  afflicted, 
and  then  dyin'  jest  when  you  git  reconciled  to  livin'  a  spell 
longer.  We  don't  have  our  say  'bout  nothin',  from  begin- 
nin'  to  end :  no  mor'n  they  do  at  school." 

"Who  knows  but  it  is  only  a  school,  Debby  ?"  I  ventured 
to  say,  "  preparing  us  for  that  which  is'in  reality —  Life.  It's 
a  severe  school  sometimes.  It's  hard  to  learn  the  lessons  it 
imposes ;  and  harder  still  to  give  up  our  friends  when,  their 
tasks  finished,  they  graduate  to  a  higher  class  than  ours. 
These  material  ties  are  so  firm.  Our  selfishness  would  fain 
keep  them  forever  in  its  lower  grade." 

"  Wall,  it's  human  natur'  to  set  by  our  kindred,  Ruby. 


228  RUBINA. 

Them  that  don't  are  brutes.  No  !  not  that  either,  for  brutes 
are  fond  o'  their  kind ;  they're  worse  than  heathen.  To  be 
sure,  I  'spose  our  loss  is  their  gain,  and  we  can  see 'em  ag'in,some 
time.  I  don't  know  though,  'bout  this  resurrection  business. 
I  don't  swaller  it  all.  It's  a  putty  slim  prospect  o'  seein'  them 
to  my  mind,  to  be  obleeged  to  wait  'till  the  judgment-seat,  and 
by  that  time  mabbe  they'll  git  over  hankerin'  to  see  us,  and'll  for- 
git  all  about  us,  that  sech  folks  ever  existed.  That  ain't  weekid, 
is  it  ?  Then,  too,  I  can't  see  what  we're  goin'  to  do  with  these 
old  concerns  when  we  git  'em  up  there.  Why,  ain't  we  jes's 
well  off  without  'em  if  we  only  think  so  ?  I,  for  one,  when  I 
git  red  on't,  wouldn't  pick  out  my  humly  old  picter,  and  ask  to 
git  back  to  it  ag'in  for  all  etarriity.  It's  bad  enough  to  tote 
it  round  in  time."  Here  she  broke  off  abruptly,  to  hold 
up  before  me  the  loaf,  which  revealed  a  huge  hollow  in  its 
centre ;  and  to  put  on  a  very  mournful  countenance,  as  she 
observed,  in  a  low  tone,  "  That's  a  grave,  Ruby  !  I  never 
knew  that  sign  to  fail !" 

"  Nonsense,  Debby  !"     I  .shook  my  head  incredulously. 

"  But  we've  all  got  to  come  to  it,"  she  sadly  pursued.  "  For 
my  part,  /  think  it's  the  best  way  to  think  on  sech  things, 
so's  it  don't  come  too  sudden  like.  Now,  child,  that's  what 
I  was  a  goin'  to  tell  you  this  afternoon,  but  Demis  won't 
never  hear  no  word,  'bout  it.  It's  all  true  as  the  Book  of 
Genesis;  what  I  told  you  them  raps  was.  Here  !  you  set  the 
tea  a  steepin',  while  I  run  down  sullar  for  some  plum-sass." 
She  soon  reappeared,  panting  and  muttering  crossly  :  "  Them 
stairs  are  the  unmercifullest  stairs  I  ever  did  see  ;  I  don't 
b'lieve  Jacob's  ladder  could  be  much  steeper;  if  so,  I 
wonder  the  angils  didn't  git  all  tuckered  out  a  runnin'  up 
and  down  'em.  Wall !"  she  continued,  setting  the  plate  on 
the  table,  and  running  her  finger  around  the  edge  to  wipe 


RUBINA.  229 

away  a  few  purple  drops,  mating  ready  for  a  leap  to  the 
cloth.  "  I  wan'l'  to  tell  you  somethin'  that  happened  when 
/was  a  gal.  You  musn't  breath  a  word  of  it  to  no  livin' 
soul,  for  I  don'  know  but  they'd  put  me  in  prison.  I  was 
knowin'  to't  in  the  time  on't.  I  guess  I  couldn't  a  been 
mor'n  fourteen  year  old,  at  the  outside,  when  I  went  out  by 
the  day  to  spin  or  work,  jest  as  they  wanted,  and  one  week 
I  went  up  t'the  holler,  to  La  wren  Carr's.  I  staid  eight  weeks, 
though  I  didn't  dream  o'  sech  a  thing  when  I  went ;  but  you 
see,  Abram,  his  son,  was  took  down  with  summer  complaint, 
and  it  settled  into  a  slow  fever,  and  his  folks  prevailed  on  me 
to  stay  and  do  chores  and  see  to  things,  so's  Miss  Carr  could 
wait  on*him.  Wall,  he  was  expectin'  to  a  been  married  that 
very  fall  to  Prudy  Perry ;  as  likely  a  gal  as  ever  trod  shoe 
leather,  and  han'some  too's  a  pictur'.  She  come  up  when  he 
was  the  sickest  to  see  him,  and  watch  with  him,  'cause  he 
was  out  of  bis  head  most  the  time,  and  he'd  keep  callin'  for 
her  the  wust  way.  Wall,  after  a  tedious  spell,  he  begun  to 
pick  up  some — I'd  told  'em  all  along  the  fever'd  have  to  have 
its  run — so's  he  was  quite  chipper,  and  put  in  t'the  chicken 
broth  as  if  he  was  possessed.  They  want  very  comf  rt'bly  on't 
for  things,  but  they  contrived  to  make  a  live  on't.  Come  in  t'the 
butt' ry, while  I  cut  some  cheese,"  said  Debby,  pausing,  to  height- 
en my  interest  in  her  story.  I  followed  her  in.  She  closed  the 
door  ere  proceeding,in  a  mysterious  tone  :  "  One  night,  Prudy 
thought  she'd  go  to  bed,  as  he  was  so  smart.  There  was  two 
beds  in  the  room,  Prudy  slept  in  one  and  I  in  t'other.  I 
was  mighty  tired.  I'd  been  helpin'  Miss  Carr  'bout  the 
washin',  and  I  wan't  used  to  it,  and  I  s'pose  I  dropped  right 
asleep,  for  Prudy  woke  me  up.  I  must  have  slept  as  sound 
as  a  log,  for  I  remember  I  was  dreamin'  of  gittin'  my  day's 
work  done,  and  goin'  off  to  rneetin'  in  a  blue  bonnet  and  ' 


230  RUBINA. 

4 

yaller  gown,  tied  round  the  waist  with  red  ribbin,  and  feellin', 
you  may  depend  upon  it,  as  if  I'se  the  biggest  duck  in  the 
puddle.  '  Debby,  Debby  !'  says  Prudy,  '  what  you  up  for  ?' 
'I  ain't  up,  nor  been  up  nuther,'  says  I,  a  leetle  out  o'  sorts, 
and  tryin'  to  keep  on  with  my  dream  'bout  my  Sunday 
fixin's.  I  jest  got  underway  ag'in,  and  was  puttin'  on  my 
white  knit  mitts,  and  shovin'  up  my  new  parasol,  when 
Prudy  at  me  ag'in.  '  Debby,  Debby  !  do  keep  in  bed.  I 
can't  sleep  a  wink,  for  youv'e  been  up,  off  and  on,  the  hull 
livelong  night.  I  guess  your'e  a  sleep-walker,  if  there  ever 
was  on'.  I  tried  to  catch  hold  o'  ye,  to  pull  you  into  bed, 
when  you  came  nigh  me,  but  it's  so  dark  I  couldn't  see  you. 
It's  dangerous  to  haze  round  so ;  you  might  hit  somethin', 
and.  knock  your  brains  out.'  I  couldn't  make  the  crittur 
b'lieve  I  hadn't  stirred  out  one  foot,  'till  I  lay  still  and 
listened  and  heered  the  sounds  too.  They'd  come  to 
my  bed,  then  round  the  foot  to  Prudy's,  and  then  they'd 
kinder  die  away,  and  then  they'd  come  back  ag'in.  We 
didn't  know  what  to  make  oft.  I  couldn't  sleep  no  more, 
and  we  didn't  dare  to  git  up  and  strike  a  light,  so  we  jest  lay 
with  our  heads  kivered  up  till  mornin'.  I  tell  you  we  was 
glad  enough  to  see  daylight,  and  we  popped  our  heads  out. 
Wall,  Ruby,  the  doors  was  all  shot,  and  the  winders  down, 
jest  as  we  left  'em  ;  but  on  the  floor — t'was  a  sanded  floor 
— all  round  the  room  was  the  strangest  tracks  ever  you  see  ; 
nothin'  mortal  about  them,  and  that  ain't  all  nuther. 
Abrain  grew  wuss  and  wuss  ev'ry  day,  and  went  into  quick 
consumption,  and  he  finally  up  and  died  the  very  day  he  was 
to  a  been  married  to  Prudy  Perry.  'Twas  all  explained 
then,  you  see,  'bout  them  tracks.  I  never  told  a  livin'  soul 
but  you.  I  shouldn't  now,  only  I  want  you  to  think  on't, 
and  not  make  light  o'  sech  things.  I  don'  know  as  any- 


RUBINA.'  .  231 

« 

tliing'll  happen ;  and  if  I  did,  I  wouldn't  tell  anybody,"  and 
Debby  shut  her  lips  persistently. 

"  What  became  of  poor  Prudy  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Wall,  now,  between  you  and  me  and  the  whippin'-post, 
it  was  ruther  queer  about  that,"  she  replied,  looking  reflect- 
ively at  the  plate  of  cheese  before  her.  "You  see,  Simeon 
Cole  lost  his  sweetheart  'bout  this  time.  He  seemed  to  feel 
dreadfully ;  wore  a  weed  on  his  hat,  and  all  that  Prudy, 
too,  put  on  half  mournin'  for  Abram,  and  seemed  to  take  a 
realizin'  sense  o'  her  loss.  Wall,  Sophi  Paddleford  spoke  up 
one  day,  and  said  she  thought  they  ought  to  make  a  match ; 
and  would  you  b'lieve  it  ?  they  happened  to  meet  there  one 
evenin'  and  he  went  hum  with  her — mis'ry  likes  company,  you 
know — and  that  very  Sunday  night  he  called — there's  plenty 
of  folks  ready  to  watch  for  sech  things,  you  know,  Ruby — 
and  the  long  and  the  short  of  it  was,  that  he  courted  and 
married  her  in  less'n  a  year.  It  seems  as  if  'twas  to  be, 
don't  it?  It  made  a  good  deal  o'  talk  in  the  time  on't." 
She  paused  suddenly,  "  Hear  that  teakittle  now ;  mournful- 
like,  but  not  loud.  I  don't  like  to  hear  it  sing  so,  Ruby. 
It's  a  sure  sign  we  shall  hear  of  a  death  somewhere.  I  never 
knew  it  to  fail.  It  goes  all  through  me.  I  know  you  don't 
b'lieve  nothin'  in  signs,  but  I  do,  and  so'll  you  some  day, 
when  you've  heard  and  seen  as  much  as  I  have." 

"  Why,  Debby,  you  speak  as  if  that  was  certain." 

"  Wall,  so  'tis.  You've  got  the  Took  in  your  eye  ;  kind  o' 
filmy,  you  see.  You  wait,  and  see  if  I  don't  speak  truth. 
It'll  come  suddin.  It  allers  does.  But  'twill  come." 

"  And  so  will  my  aunt,  if  we  don't  make  haste,"  I  re- 
torted, as  the  door-latch  clicked  ominously.  "  Here  she 
is  now,"  and  Deborah  closed  her  mouth,  and  drew  in  her 
features  into  an  innocent  expression,  as  if  to  thereby  protest 


232  RUBHTA. 

her  utter  guiltlessness  of  ever  alluding  to  these  contraband 
subjects. 

The  good  soul  was  firmly  wedded  to  her  belief  in  the 
supernatural.  Those  mystic  tendencies  she  inherited,  in  part, 
from  a  sight-seeing  mother;  and,  fondled  in  the  lap  of  a 
credulous  neighborhood",  ever  alert  to  credit  the  marvellous, 
that  which  rightfully  belongs  to  the  simple,  they  had  grown 
with  her  growth,  and  strengthened  with  her  strength,  until 
they  inextricably  wove  their  subtile  fibres  through  the  web 
and  woof  of  every  mental  tissue  ;  to  eradicate  one,  the  whole 
structure  must  be  demolished  ;  and  it  is  questionable  whether, 
out  of  such  helpless  ruins,  enough  sound  material  would  have 
remained  for  re-erection.  At  all  events,  as  she  apparently 
derived  much  comfort  from  the  harmless  superstitions,  and 
for  the  most  part,  nourished  them  in  secret,  none  sought  to 
deprive  her  of  them. 

Before  my  uncle  and  aunt,  however,  she  was  compelled  to 
hold  her  peace.  They  considered  her  visions,  omens,  and 
prophecies  as  controverting  Scripture,  which  inspired  testi- 
mony, expressly  declares  that,  "  He  cometh  like  a  thief  in  the 
night ;"  and  offering  an  inducement  to  Providence  for  a  judg- 
ment to  follow  in  the  wake  of  her  irreverence.  In  these 
later  years,  with  our  developing  faculty  of  classification,  she 
would  be  immediately  labelled  a  "  clairvoyant,"  enthusiast- 
ically bottled  in  a  sensational  sphere,  and  corked  with  flaming 
programmes,  paragraphs,  and  advertisements.  What  a  differ- 
ence a  few  years  make !  Deborah,  owing  to  the  extreme 
simplicity  of  the  times  she  lived  in,  was  only  a  fortune- 
teller on  the  sly ;  and  an  absurdly  credulous  believer  in  crude 
dreams  and  omens. 


RUBIXA. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

SUNDAY  came  and  went  like  others,  full  of  holy  calm. 
The  baptism  and  reception  into  the  Church's  maternal  care 
of  the  six  young  converts  stamped  it  with  memorable  inter- 
est, as  the  first-fruits  of  a  hoped-for  revival.  Natty  was  the 
first  to  descend  to  the  icy  bath  ;  his  fresh  young  face  flushed 
with  holy  enthusiasm,  and  the  light  of  a  deep,  peaceful  joy 
in  his  dark  eyes. 

At  this  junction  Annah  set  up  a  furious  lament,  and  we 
were  compelled  to  withdraw,  despite  Aunt  Rhoda's  frowns. 
This  relative  of  ours  believed  devoutly  in  infant  conversions, 
and  had  hoped  the  scene  might  have  been  the  means  of. 
bringing  the  child  into  the  fold.  Her  piety  was  never  pas- 
sive. She  greedily  devoured  indigestible  memoirs  of  re- 
markable infantile  converts,  who,  sickening  mysteriously,  and 
making  rather  lengthy  exhortations  to  surrounding  impeni- 
tent friends — had  been  rapt  from  their  little  weeping 
worlds  to  an  heavenly  inheritance.  She  adored  stories  of 
nice  little  Sunday-school  girls,  by  their  touching  prattle  con- 
verting a  dram-drinking  parent  from  his  evil  ways  ;  and  she 
judged  Annah  of  an  age  sufficient  to  define  her  position  in 
the  moral  and  religious  universe.  I  scouted  this  idea ;  hence 
frequent  clashes. 

In  her  creed,  infants,  only  a  few  hours  old,  were  ruthlessly 
dispatched  to  endless  torture  for  being  too  bodily  weak  to 
live.  "  As  in  Adam  all  die,  so  in  Christ  shall  all  be  made 
alive,"  she  was  fond  of  quoting.  "Christ  has  imperatively 
ordained  this  ordinance.  He  descended  into  Jordan;  and 


234  RUBINA. 

we  cannot  get  to  him  by  any  other  way.  '  For  ye  are  con- 
demned already.' " 

Oh  !  finite  limiting  of  infinite  grace.  Poor  weak  human- 
ity daring  thus  resolutely  to  define — Divinity  ;  to  pronounce 
upon  the  utmost  verge  to  which  "  Our  Father's"  cord  of 
compassionate  loving-kindness  extends :  to  scan  the  reced- 
ing circle  of  the  merciful  remembrance  of  our  frailties.  From 
the  chaos  of  perplexed  reasoning,  in  which  such  a  stern,  piti- 
less dogma  hurls  the  intellect,  rises  in  light  serene  the  com- 
forting assurance  :  "  For  His  ways  are  not  as  our  ways ; 
neither  His  thoughts  like  our  thoughts."  ' 

Aunt  Rhoda  came  home  from  church  this  day  with  a  more 
uncompromising  front  than  ever;  and  as  she  divested  her 
head  of  its  green  caleche,  she  thus  delivered  herself:  "I  de- 
clare for't,  it  completely  spiled  my  meetin'  for  me  f  To  think, 
that  a  child,  most  a  woman  grown,  shouldn't  even  be  decent ! 
I  overheard  Mis'  Prince  whisper  to  Nancy  Carr,  that '  for  her 
part  she  thought  'twas  heathenish ;  livin'  in  sech  a  Christian 
community,  and  settin'  under  the  very  droppin's  of  the  sanc- 
tu'ry ;'  and  Nancy  said  back,  that  *  she  hoped  she  shouldn't 
abuse  her  privileges;  but,  then,  we  didn't  none  on  us  know 
what  we  might  be  brought  to  dp.'  /  know  what  Annah's 
comin'  to,"  pursued  she,  decisively.  "  She's  going  to  meetin', 
rain  or  shine.  She's  old  enough  to  give  her  heart  to  the 
Saviour.  I  don't  b'lieve  she  can  repeat  the  very  first  answer 
in  the  Catechism."  • 

I  stoutly  defended  her  knowledge  in  this  respect.  She 
persisted  in  doubting.  "Bother!"  cried  Derais.  "Lotus 
talk  of  Nancy  Carr.  I  know  what  she  never  will  come  to." 

"  Well,  what  ?"  asked  her  mother  rigidly. 

"Matrimony,"  and  she  soberly  vanished.  Annah  was 
summoned,  very  much  frightened  at  the  prospect  of  a  lecture. 


RUBINA.  235 

"What  is  the  chief  end  of  man?"  slowly  and  solemnly 
inquired  her  aunt,  peering  at  her  over  her  spectacle  tops. 

She  stood  bewildered,  apparently  endeavoring  to  summon 
the  reply  from  her  treacherous  memory.  Aunt  Rhoda  gave 
me  an  exultant  glance,  and  solemnly  .repeated  it.  All  at 
once  the  child's  face  brightened.  "  Keep  what  you've  got, 
get  what  you  can ;  hold  up  your  head,  and  look  like  a 
man,"  fell  glibly  from  her  lips. 

Her  aunt  dropped  the  primer  in  horror,  and  blushed  with 
indignation.  '•  Did  you  ever  ?"  she  inquired  of  Uncle  Joel, 
who  bent  his  head  suspiciously  low  over  his  book,  and  re- 
mained mute.  "Sech  wickedness,"  she  went  on,  "sech 
irreverence  is  awful.  Then,  this  is  the  way  you  learn  the 
Catechism ;  them  sacred  words,  printed  by  servants  of  the 
Most  High.  I  don't  wonder,  poor  child,  you  don't  know 
nothm' !"  she  said  pityingly. 

I  interrupted  her.    "  Do  you  think  I  taught  the  child  that  ?" 

"  Where'd  she  pick  it  up  then  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  aunt." 

"  I  don't  b'lieve  you,"  she  said,  hotly. 

Annah  began  to  cry.  "  Cousin  Demis  told  it ;  it's  pretty 
too  !"  ceasing  her  tears,  to  defend  her  favorite.  "  She  knows 
ever  so  many  more !"  and  she  flashed  at  her  aunt  a  defiant 
glance,  which  made  the  good  lady  hop  uneasily  in  her  chair, 
and  clutch  her  fingers,  as  if  she  longed — yet  was  not  quite 
sure  of  the  propriety  of  finishing  off  the  day's  exercises  by 
a  matter  of  so  secular  a  nature  as  a  whipping. 

"Wall,  wall,"  muttered  Uncle  Joel,  "never  mind! 
What's  the  odds,  Rhody?  Makin'  such  a  fuss  about 
nothin' !" 

"  Indeed  !  I  don't  call  it  '  nothin',  Mr.  Martin !"  she  said, 
angrily.  "It's  Gospel  truth." 


236  EUBINA. 

"Wall,  wall,  the  child  don't  know  no  better !  She  thinks 
Demis  is  law  and  gospel.  Lectur'  Demis,  if  anybody." 

"  Suppose  you  take  her  in  hand,  Mr.  Martin.  It'll  be  new 
business  for  you.  You  let  them  run  right  over  you,  and  never 
say  boo." 

"  Oh  no,  I  don't,  Rhody,"  he  rejoined,  meekly. 

"  Well !  if  you  know  best,"  she  sarcastically  observed.  "  You 
can  go,  Annah.  I  won't  ask  no  more.  I  don't  want  to  git 
sech  another  start."  She  folded  her  spectacles  into  their  case 
and  rocked  herself,  complacently.  It  appeared,  also,  that  she 
meditated  ;  for  she  presently  observed :  "  I'm  sure  we  ought 
to  feel  thankful,  Joel,  that  the  Lord  has  inclined  three  of  our 
children  unto  his  ways  !  As  for  Demis,  that  child  allers  was 
different  from  the  rest — dreadful  hard  to  manage.  I'm  'fraid 
it'll  take  a  mighty  solemn  providence  to  turn  her  heart  to  the 
testimony.  I  declare  I  tremble  all  over,  like  a  leaf,  when  I 
think  what's  in  store  for  her !" 

"  I  don'  know,"  replied  Uncle  Joel,  thoughtfully.  "  I  don't 
find  no  fault  with  none  on  'em.  I  guess,  on  a  long  hull,  De- 
mis'll  come  out  with  the  rest, — and  Ruby  and  Annah  too,"  he 
added,  with  a  kind  glance  at  me. 

Aunt  Rhoda,  with  an  incredulous  sniff,  wheeled  around  to 
the  light-stand,  and  opened  the  great  family  Bible,  with  a  jerk. 
Slowly  turning  over  its  leaves,  with  one  long  forefinger,  she 
paused  finally,  and  buried  her  eyes  amid  its  comforting  pages. 

The  next  day  brought  the  schoolmaster.  He  came  down 
directly  to  see  us,  and  announced  his  intention  of  remaining 
to  tea.  Uncle  Joel's  hearty  hand-clasp  and  resonant  "  How 
are  you  ?"  sufficiently  testified  to  his  pleasure  at  the  reunion, 
and  my  aunt's  rigidity  visibly  decreased  with  every  moment 
of  his  stay. 

Strong,  manly,  and  cheery  he  looked,  one  worthy  to  win 


RUBINA.  237 

confidence,  and  incapable  of  betraying  it.  The  hard  glimmer 
in  his  eyes,  which  formerly  I  had  thought  so  repelling,  I  now 
sought  for  in  vain.  The  sneer — too  often  wreathing  the  thin 
bloodless  lips — had  broadened  to  a  smile,  more  genial.  He 
looted  one  placed,  by  some  sudden  turn  of  Fate,  on  better 
terms  with  his  own  nature  than  in  former  days,  and  con- 
sequently in  more  improved  relations  to  all  mankind.  Then 
liis  laugh  rang  out  more  freely,  devoid  of  clogging  affectation 
in  its  tone,  and  that  I  was  not  alone  in  feeling  the  change, 
witness  Debby's  greeting  as  she  entered.  "  Law  !  Mr.  Hume," 
accepting  his  offered  hand,  and  holding  it  like  a  little  toy, 
"  Pm  well  as  common.  How  be  you  ?  And  proper  glad  to 
see  you.  Your  paw  don't  look  much"  like  mine,"  she  added, 
relinquishing  possession ;  "  mine's  brown  as  a  berry,  and  -hard 
as  flint.  It's  seen  work,  and  a  good  deal  of  it  too."  He  made 
some  pleasant  observations. 

"•That's  all  right,"  remarked  Uncle  Joel;  "but a  leetle 
work  wouldn't  hurt  you :  make  you  tough.  Work'll  never 
put  nobody  out  o'  jint,  I  guess." 

"  I  practise,  daily,  in  the  gymnasium,"  said  Mr.  Hume. 

"  What's  that  to  the  pint  ?"  demanded  Debby.  "  Don't 
'  mount  to  nothin',  does  it  ?" 

For  answer,  he  seized  the  heavy  iron  mortar,  kept  standing 
in  the  corner  for  pounding  salt,  and  held  it  aloft,  with  one 
hand,  triumphantly.  Uncle  Joel,  good  naturedly,  chuckled, 
"  Didn't  see  nothin'  -wonderful  in  that — thought  anybody 
might,"  essayed  to  make  the  trial  a  success,  and  signally  failed. 
"  It  is  a  purty  consid'rable  heft,"  he  admitted  ;  and  was  going 
to  try  again,  when  his  wife  serenely  observed  :  "  Law,  now,  Joel^ 
I  would'nt  be  drawn  inter  no  fool's  play,  if  Fse  you.  "  You're 
too  old  for  sech  doin's."  He  dropped  the  weight,  looking 
as  if  a  damper  had  been  put  upon  his  rising  cheerfulness. 


238  RUBINA. 

"  I  wonder  where  the  boys  be  ?"  said  Debby,  anxiously, 
some  time  later  in  the  day. 

"  I  met  Dwight  going  to  mill,  at  three  o'clock,"  said  Mark, 
"  and  Natty  was  sliding  with  Cyrus  Wright.  Very  likely  he 
has  gone  home  with  him." 

"  He  hadn't  oughter  be  out  after  dark.  He  aint  very  rugged 
latterly,"  she  remarked. 

"  I  guess  'twont  hurt  him  none,"  observed  Aunt  Rhoda, 
placidly.  At  which  lack  of  maternal  solicitude,  Debby  mut- 
tered under  her  breath,  "  I'm  glad  I'se  got  more  feelin'  than 
some  folks,  if  they  be  mothers." 

Twilight  deepened  into  dusky  evening.  At  six,  Dwight 
entered  alone,  staggermg  under  a  huge  bag  of  meal.  He 
threw  a  look  of  surprise  around  the  table,  and  sank  wearily 
into  a  chair.  "  Why,  where's  Natty  ?  I  thought  he  would 
come  and  help  me  draw  this  home.  I  told  him  to.  It's 
mortal  heavy." 

"  That's  what  I  should  like  to  know ;  and  I'll  find  out," 
cried  Debby,  starting  up  hastily  ;  upsetting  her  teacup,  which 
rolled  with  a  crash  to  the  floor.  She  threw  a  shawl  over  her 
shoulders,  and,  lighting  the  lantern,  went  out.  Uncle  Joel 
seized  his  hat  and  followed  her.  We  heard  the  gate  click 
after  them,  and  the  craunch  of  the  crisp  snow  under  their 
feet,  and  then  there  was  silence.  A  strange  suspense  settled 
over  us;  Demis  and  Annah  began  to  cry,  until  hushed  by 
Aunt  Rhoda's  sharp  voice:  "  I'd  act  like  fools  an'  done  with 
it :  jest  as  if  somethin'  was  the  matter.  Deborah  allers  was 
ravin'  distracted  if  one  on  'em  was  out  a  minute  after  dark. 
I  don't  want  no  racket,  for  my  part."  They  stopped  spccdi]}'. 

"Perhaps  he  is  in  one  of  the  neighbor's,"  observed  Mr. 
Hume,  hopefully.  "  He  may  have  gone  to  Mr.  Pierce' s,  or 
home  with  this  Cyrus,  whom  Mark  saw  with  him." 


RUBINA.  239 

"  Of  course  !  But,  to  satisfy  you,  I'll  go  after  him,"  said 
Mark,  leaping  to  the  door.  I,  too,  strolled  out,  when  I  could 
no  longer  bear  the  silence,  and  Demis  followed,  clinging  to 
me  closely. 

"  We  will  walk  up  to  the  village,"  I  said.  Our  search  was 
fruitless.  We  approached  every  door  in  hope,  but  turned 
away  •  saddened  and  disheartened.  Nearly  all  had  that  day 
seen  him,  but  that  was  the  extent  of  the  information  gleaned. 
At  the  last  house  we  encountered  Mr.  Wright,  likewise  out 
on  a  mission  of  inquiry.  We  looked  at  each  other  in  dis- 
may. "  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  it,"  said  he.  "  The 
lad  was  never  from  home  after  dark  before.  He  has  been 
gone  since  morning;  but  we  did  not  feel  alarmed." 

"  Oh  !  my  poor  brother !  my  poor  little  brother !"  shouted 
Demis,  franticly  wringing  her  hands. 

I  tried  to  speak  hopefully.  "  But  he  may  have  gone  home 
with  Eleil." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  He  never  would  have  gone  by  the 
house  without  telling  us ;  besides,  he  had  his  sled  to  put  up 
first." 

"  Well,"  I  said,  desperately.  "  There  is  but  one  place 
more ;  the  Alum  Rocks.  It's  possible  they  may  be  still 
sliding,  though  your  father  prohibited  that  place." 

"  We  will  go,"  she  said  huskily.  "  Come,  Mr.  Wright.  I 
can't  go  home  yet." 

It  was  at  least  a  mile  to  the  Alum  Rocks.  I  thought 
it  extremely  unlikely  that  he  had  ventured  there  in  defi- 
ance of  his  father's  command.  But  action,  however  misap- 
plied, was  better  than  quiescence,  so  we  pushed  on  bravely, 
keeping  a  kind  of  running  pace  with  Mr.  Wright's  heavy 
strides.  Not  a  word  penetrated  the  wintry  silence.  It  was 
intensely  cold.  Our  rapid  motion  served  to  keen  us  some- 


240  KUBINA. 

•what  warm ;  but  vapor  froze  upon  our  mouths  and  nostrils, 
and  the  stinging  blast  cut  keenly  into  our  exposed  faces. 
Demis  suddenly  stopped. 

"Ruby,  I  believe  I  have  frozen  my  hands.  They  are 
numb,"  said  she. 

"  Swing  'em  !  swing  'em  !"  shouted  Mr.  Wright,  pushing 
forward.  "  So  !"  he  added,  violently  swinging  his  own  arms 
by  way  of  example.  "That  will  keep  the  blood  a  circula- 
ting." 

I  bethought  me  of  a  pair  of  mittens  in  my  pocket.  I  had 
dropped  them  there  in  the  morning,  and  utterly  forgotten 
them  since.  Now,  I  inwardly  blessed  the  chance,  and  I 
drew  them  on  Demis' s  chilled  fingers,  in  spite  of  her  feeble  re- 
monstrance. 

"  We  are  almost  there,"  she  shivered.     "  Let  us  push  on." 

"  Good  God !"  ejaculated  Mr.  Wright  in  horror.  "  What 
a  place  for  sliding.  God  forbid  that  they  should  have  gone 
down  there"  he  muttered  to  himself,  approaching  and  peer- 
ing cautiously  over  the  edge  of  the  precipice.  "  I  see  no 
signs  of  'em,"  he  added  aloud.  "  We  must  come  back  the 
way  we  came." 

"  There  they  are !"  cried  Demis  joyfully,  as  far  up  the 
snowy  slope,  we  descried  two  dark  objects  moving. 

"  No !"  I  said.  "  It  cannot  be,  for  one  has  a  lantern. 
Why,  it's  your  father  and  Deborah !  It  seems  they  came 
directly  here." 

"Oh  dear!  I  can't  go  fast  enough,"  she  cried,  despair- 
ingly. "  Come,  come,"  and  she  fairly  flew  up  the  long  hill. 
The  figures  had  disappeared,  but,  looking  carefully  around, 
we  caught  the  lantern's  glimmer  among  the  leafless  forest 
trees,  down  in  the  darkness  below. 

"  Now,  girls,  you  must  stay  here,"  said  Mr.  Wright,  sooth- 


RUBINA.  241 

ingly.  "  It's  too  slippery  and  steep  for  you  to  venture  by 
'yourselves  down  there,  and  I  can't  stop  to  help  you.  I'll 
call,  if  we  find  any  thing." 

"Any  thing!"  I  shuddered  at  the  ghastly  forebodings 
implied  by  this  word.  He  did  not  wait  for  an  answer,  but 
picked  his  way  swiftly  down  the  dangerous  ledge. 

"  I  can  see  his  footsteps.  Come,"  whispered  Demis,  and 
we  followed  him  mechanically.  We  reached  the  bottom. 
Uncle  Joel  turned.  The  two  men  looked  at  each  other 
gloomily.  "  My  God  help  us  !"  burst  from  Uncle  Joel's  lips  ; 
extending  one  hand,  which  Mr.  Wright  grasped  firmly ;  with 
the  other  he  pointed  to  a  huge  break  in  the  icy  pool. 

"  Well,  Martin,"  said  Mr.  Wright,  brokenly,  "  do  you  think 
they  made  that  hole  ?" 

"  I  don'  know  neighbor.     The  i«e  isn't  so  very  thick,  and 
comin'  from  way  up  yonder'd  be  a  powerful  blow." 
"'  "  Yes,"  returned  the  other,  drearily. 

"  I  wish  we'd  a  had  our  wits  about  us,  enough  to  a  fetched 
ropes  and  hooks  along,"  said  Debby,  coming  up.  "I  may 
as  well  go  after  some,  and  I'll  send  some  men  to  search  the 
pool." 

"  There  is  no  trace  anywhere  round  to  tell  us,"  said  Mr. 
Wright,  holding  aloft  the  lantern  to  peer,  fruitlessly  beyond 
him.  "  I  suppose  the  sleds  have  gone  under  the  ice." 

"Stay,"  cried  Demis;  "I  see  something  out  there." 

"  Why,  so  there  is.  Give  me  the  lantern  and  I'll  get  it." 
I  said  eagerly. 

"  Oh  no  !"  returned  the  men  simultaneously.  "  The  ice 
won't  hold  you  up,  and  you  can't  see  the  air-holes  in  it." 

But  I  was  already  swinging  down  the  rocks.     I  advanced 
cautiously — searching  by  the  dim  flicker  of  the  lantern  for 
treacherous  cracks.     I  reached  the  article  I  sought,  lying  on 
11 


242  %>%"^-^          EUBINA. 

the  jagged  edge  of  the  icy  ruptures  ikaj^st  agonized  token ; 
thrown  upward  for  the  help — which  never  came. 

It  was  simply  a  little  striped  mitten. 

There  was  dead  silence  when  I  handed  it  to  Uncle  JQC!. 
He  softly  pressed  it  between  his  palms,  as  if  to  assure 
himself  of  its  tangibility,  turned  white,  and  silently  handed 
it  to  his  neighbor,  who  likewise  pressed  and  passed  it  to 
Debby.  "Well,"  she  said  sadly,  caressing  softly  the  un- 
conscious token  from  a  watery  grave.  "  That  ever  I  should 
live  to  see  this  day  !  I  s'pose  this  is  evidence  enough,  Mr. 
Martin  ;  I  knit  it  myself,"  she  broke  into  dreary  bewailings. 

"  And  my  poor  lad  left  nothing,"  said  Mr.  Wright  chok- 
ingly. 

"Demis  snatched  the  mitten,  hugging  it  convulsively, 
kissing  and  talking  to  it  as  though  it  were  a  living  thing. 
"  Oh  dear,  dear,  dear,"  she  murmured,  "  What  shall  we 
do?" 

"  Do  !"  I  echoed,  forcing  back  the  coming  sobs .  "  Get 
them  out,  of  course.  I  am  going  after  help.  Will  you 
come  with  me  ?"  She  assented,  like  a  broken-hearted  child ; 
placing  the  cold  little  hand  in  mine  to  be  led  away  from  the 
sad  scene. 

In  spite  of  the  unremitting  exertions  of  the  neighbors, 
three  days  elapsed  ere  the  bodies  were  recovered.  During 
this  period  the  saddest  of  silences — that  of  agonized  anticipa- 
tion— reigned  throughout  the  house.  Few  came  near  us,  and 
we  walked  the  rooms,  solitary,  voluntary  prisoners,  listening 
to  Deborah's  heart-broken  chanting  of  the  dead  boy's  early 
years.  There  was  also  an  old  eastern  death-song,  which  sho 
wailed  continually.  I  should  make  one  exception.  Aunt 
Rhoda  kept  on  her  calm,  even  round  of  duties  much  as 
usual.  She  prepared  the  meals  regularly — which  no  one  ate, 


RUBINA.  243 

and  she  rose  as  early  as  ever.  Amanda  came  home ;  but 
never  very  efficient,  save  when  controlled  by  selfish  desires,  her 
dismal  reproaches  at  every  one  present  were  quite  unendur- 
able, and  at  Mark's  request,  her  husband  came  down  one  day 
and  removed  her  to  her  own  home. 

"  When  the  bodies  were  brought  down  the  hill,  stark  and 
stiff,  their  pale  hands  firmly  grasping  their  sleds  by  the  run- 
ners, crowds  came  out  of -their  dwellings,  and  following  after, 
filled  the  house.  Oat  of  these,  who  came  chiefly  to  observe 
countenances,  and  watch  curiously  how  each  took  it,  and 
then,  repairing  to  Mr.  Wright's,  there  repeat  the  analyza- 
tion,  there  were  some  sympathetic  friends,  full  of  genuine, 
hearty  kindness. 

"  In  the  midst  of  life  we  are  in  death,"  said  Elder  Fuller 
solemnly  that  evening,  after  the  bjisy  hands  had  departed. 
"  It  ought  to  be  a  comfort,  my  friends,  to  reflect  that  he 
was  prepared  to  go.  I  see  the  hand  of  an  all-wise  Provi- 
dence in  this  dispensation.  It's  another  lesson  to  the 
young." 

"  Yis,"  shudderingly  observed  my  aunt.  "  What  if  it  had 
been  Dwight  ?  He  isn't  fit  to  die,  and  stand  before  the  judg- 
ment-seat of  God " 

My  uncle  rose  here,  and  abruptly  left  the  room.  I  softly 
followed  him  into  the  keeping-room.  There  he  was,  sobbing 
a&  if  his  heart  would  break.  Reader !  did  you  ever  see  a 
strong  man  weep  ?  One  not  easily  moved  ?  A  woman's 
tears  flow  easily,  and  are  as  easily  quelled.  A  rivulet  of 
gusty  passions,  which  clears  all  dust  from  its  channel ;  fin- 
ishing the  sacrament  with  a  few  gasping  sobs,  and  leaving 
behind  refreshing  sweetness — the  pebbly  bottom,  white  and 
clear  in  the  returning  sunshine.  Man's  passion  is  the  turbid 
torrent;  swollen  to  overflowing  by  unusual  rains.  A  de- 


244  KUBINA. 

vastating  freshet,  as  it  slowly  subsides,  leaving  scathing  deso- 
lation in  its  track.  Dumb  terror  seized  me,  as  I  helplessly 
gazed  on  the  convulsive  shivers  of  his  broad  shoulders ;  the 
passionate  throes  heaving  his  breast,  and  the  intermittent 
sobs.  He  lifted  his  head  at  last,  with  a  piteous  glance. 
"  Oh  !  I  can't  set  and  hear  sech  stuff  as  that,"  he  murmur- 
ed. "  It  makes  no  difference  which  is  taken.  /  can't  spare 
none  on  'em.  Come  here,  children ;"  we  were  all  weeping 
unrestrainedly,  kneeling  at  his  knee ;  he  passed  his  strong 
arms  round  us,  and  gathered  us  all  to  his  great  loving  heart. 

"  Oh,  father,"  whispered  Deinis,  affrighted,  "  don't,  don't 
take  on  so.  It  hurts  me." 

"  Child,  I  can't  help  it,"  he  sobbed.  I'm  an  old  man,  well 
stricken  in  years  and  infirmities,  but  I  never  cried  afore.  I 
didn't  know  as  1  could ;  and  now  I've  got  a  goin',  I  can't 
stop.  'Pears  so  I'd  got  to  cry  for  all  that  ever  happened 
afore.  If  he  had  a  been  sick  and  died,  I  should  thought  it 
God's  will,  and  been  submissive,  but  sech  a  death  is  awful !" 

"  Have  you  seen  him  ?"  softly  inquired  Olive,  who  had  en- 
tered unheard.  He  shook  his  head.  "  I  can't  bear  to  !" 

"  Come,  all  of  you,"  she  said,  persuasively,  "  and  see  how 
sweetly  he  slu  rnbers,"  and  as  we  rose  to  follow  her,  he  came  also. 

"  O  Death,  so  full  of  terror  !  Why  canst  thou  not  lift  the 
hideous  veil  from  thy  features,  and  show  poor,  weak  human- 
ity tb^e  Divine  splendor  which  lurks  beneath  ?"  murmured 
Olive,  reverently  uncovering  the  still,  waxen  features. 

"  Yes !"  said  Mr.  Hume,  coming  forth  from  a  window  re- 
cess. "  For  now  we  see,  as  in  a  glass  darkly  ;  but  then,  face  to 
face.  Think,  my  friends,  what  a  glorious  vision  now  greets  his 
eyes ;  face  to  face  with  immortality,  and  life,  and  light  divine." 

Uncle  Joel  wiped  his  eyes,  gazed  awhile  in  silence,  and 
withdrew  somewhat  comforted. 


KTJBINA.  245 

"The  sting  of  death  is  sin,"  said  Olive.  "That  is  all  one 
need  fear ;  and  what  is  our  life  ?  It  is  but  a  vapor  soon  ex- 
haled ;  but  a  shadow  which  fleeth  away.  Oh  !  girls,  -we 
should  make  the  most  of  this  transient  season,"  she  con- 
*cluded  earnestly. 

"  You  think  this  the  only  probationary  state ;"  I  ventured, 
"  but  who  can  tell,  but  that  in  the  region  beyond  may  exist 
repentance  and  pardon  of  sin." 

"  This  is  no  place  to  discuss  such  a  doctrine,"  she  answer- 
ed coldly.  "  You  will  do  well  to  read  your  Bible  more."  She 
refolded  the  damp  cloth  over  the  white  face  beneath  us,  and 
left  the  room. 

"  Wall !"  mused  Deborah,  swaying  herself  to  and  fro  on  her 
seat,  "  it  ain't  a  mite  of  no  use  to  try,  if  the  sperrit  don't  move 
you.  If  you're  foreordained  to  be  saved,  you  will  be ;  and 
if  not,  you  won't  be,  'cordin'  to  some  folks  tell.  Maybe  your 
time  ain't  come  yit,  Ruby,"  she  added,  consolingly. 

"I  don't  want  to  be  one  of  the  elect  if  all  my  friends 
are  not,"  said  poor  little  Demis,  mournfully.  "  I  couldn't 
be  happy  in  heaven,  if  those  I  love  were  not  there,"  she 
added. 

"  You  will  lose  these  natural  feelings  then,  in  the  superior 
love  that  shall  kindle  in  your  heart  toward  the  Author  and 
Preserver  of  all— the  Righteous  Judge.  So  God  is  glorified, 
you  will  be  willing  that  all  else  shall  be  lost.  You  will  be 
willing  to  be  damned,  yourself,"  said  Mr.  Hume,  gravely. 

Demis  looked  doubtful ;  she  shook  her  head  slowly. 

"No,"  muttered  Debby,  giving  him  a  strange  look. 
"  Come  to  the  pinch,  and  he  wouldn't  himself.  It's  easy 
enough  to  talk !  I'm  sick  of  sech  figerin'  roun'  common 
sense,  among  the  whole  ke-boodle  of  'em." 

Here  Olive  opened  the  door.     "  Elder  Fuller  wishes  you 


246  KUBIKA. 

all  to  come  into  the  kitchen  for  family  prayers.  I  cannot 
get  Dwight  down ;  he  is  up  in  his  room  in  the  dark,  and  he 
'  wtfn't  listen  to  a  word.  Mr.  Martin  won't  go  either.  Some 
one  must,  for  the  looks  of  it." 

"  Wall !"  muttered  Debby,  wrathfully,  "  it  won't  be  me." 
Catch  me  stirring  a  peg  to  hear  that  ere  man  hold  forth, 
an'  you'll  catch  a  weasel  asleep."  Mr.  Hume  opened  the 
door,  and  signed  to  me  to  follow. 

After  prayers,  we  returned  to  the  parlor.  "Who  is  to 
watch  ?"  asked  Mr.  Hume.  "  I  am,"  returned  Debby,  lifting 
her  head.  "  It's  the  last  thing  I  can  do  for  him.  You  can 
all  stay  up,  if  you've  a  mind." 

"  Is  the  funeral  to-morrow  then  ?"  inquired  he. 

"  I  s'pose  so,"  rejoined  Debby,  sadly.  "  It's  too  soon,  I 
think ;  but  I  heard  the  Elder  tell  Mis'  Martin,  that  they'd 
better  both  be  buried  to-morrow,  as  'twas  Sunday,  and 
'twould  make  the  day  impressive.  That  man  ain't  got  no 
feelin's,"  she  said  curtly.  "  All  he  thinks  'bout  is  makin'  a 
figger  among  folks,  and  Mis'  Martin  and  he's  as  near  alike 
as  two  peas.  She's  'mazin'  calm ;  takes  it  just  as  he  did 
poor  little  Kitty's  death — I  don't  know  how  folks  can  do  it, 
for  my  part."  A  pause  followed.  She  resumed.  "  Some- 
how, I  can't  feel  to  kneel  when  he's  prayin'.  I  don't  feller- 
ship  him  a'tall.  His  prayers  don't  reach  the  spot.  I  don't 
b'lieve  they  ever  do  git  higher' ri  the  chimbly's.  I'd  a  heap 
ruther  git'n  a  corner  som'ers  and  say,  "  Lord  be  marciful  to 
a  poor  creetur'  like  me !  Oh,  Ruby  !"  she  broke  forth — 
"  What'd  I  tell  you  ?  I  felt  it  in  my  bones,  that  something 
was  goin*  to  happen;  but  I  never  thought  of  the  baby's 
dyin'.  Poor  little  boy !"  She  covered  her  head  with  her 
apron,  and  moaned  dismally. 

Mr.  Hume  looked  distressed.     He  went  up  to  her,  and 


RUBINA.  247 

kneeling  noiselessly,  pulled  the  apron  gently  down.  "Be  ye 
comforted,  my  poor  friend,"  he  whispered.  "  Ye  have  done 
for  him  all  that  ye  could.  Let  us  pray  together,"  and  then, 
with  a  voice  almost  inaudible  from  emotion,  arose  the  school- 
master's first  public  prayer.  Debby  lifted  her  straining  eyes 
at  its  conclusion.  "  Oh  dear,  Mr.  Hume,"  she  said,  "  I'm 
'bleeged  to  ye,  I'm  sure ;  but  there's  no  peace  for  the  wicked, 
is  there  ?"  and  ere  he  could  rise  from  his  knees,  she  placed 
her  hard,  heavy  hand  upon  his  head,  and  solemnly  blessed 
him. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  winter  passed  slowly.  Heavy  shadows  settled  down, 
upon  the  dwelling,  creating  a  mental  listlessness,  which  no 
activity  of  body  could  dissipate.  Uncle  Joel  sat  entire  days 
by  the  kitchen  fire,  resting  his  head  thoughtfully  on  his 
broad  palm,  listening  to  the  singing  teakettle,  and  gazing 
absently  at  the  maker's  name,  in  raised  letters  on  the  stove- 
hearth.  Then  he  would  rise  suddenly,  put  on  his  hat,  and 
walk  slowly  in  the  direction  of  the  village.  We  knew  his 
destination.  We  knew  that  he  stood  for  hours  in  the  wan- 
ing daylight  by  a  snowy  mound  in  a  distant  corner ;  but  no 
one  remarked,  in  words — upon  his  going  out,  or  coming 
back.  Finally  his  visits  ceased ;  for,  standing  so  much  in 
the  snow,  brought  back  his  old  enemy  the  rheumatism — al- 
ways ready  to  assail  him.  At  first,  it  treated  him  to  a  few 
irritating  twinges  ;  then,  finding  the  citadel  sufficiently  weak- 
ened, it  boldly  assumed  an  inflammatory  character,  and  stretch- 
ed him  helplessly  upon  a  couch  of  intense  suffering.  What 
time  Aunt  Rhoda — placid  as  ever — ccyild  spare  from  nurs- 


248  ETJBINA. 

ing  him,  was  given  to  the  Church.  A  \vide-spread  revival 
followed  the  recent  "calamitous  visitations  of  Providence." 
Meetings  for  prayer  were  held  five  nights  out  of  the  seven, 
at  the  Baptist  and  Methodist  Churches,  alternately. 

For,  the  latter  sect — not  to  be  outdone  by  their  neighbors 
— had  also  spiritually  awakened  ;  and  oh  !  fact  most  worthy 
of  notice — constitutional  animosities  of  belief;  jealous  bicker- 
ings, for  once  were  merged  in  a  hand-to-hand  clasp  of  Chris- 
tian brotherhood.  Each  minister  came  to  labor  with  our 
slumbering  consciences.  Demis  listened  in  proud  indifference, 
especially  to  Mr.  Love,  the  Methodist  pastor.  Indeed,  I 
found  him  personally  repulsive.  He  was  a  tall,  coarse  man ; 
bitter  in  his  hates,  which  were  easily  excited,  and  relentlessly 
vindictive.  He  often  sorely  belied  his  amiable  patronymic, 
for  he  never  forgave  what  he  deemed  an  insult.  All  angry 
threats  he  scrupulously  fulfilled  to  the  letter.  He  carried  his 
partisan  zeal  to.  excess.  He  also  deemed  it  derogatory  to 
Christian  dignity  to  descend  so  far  as  to  win  souls  to  Christ. 
The  pathetic  was  out  of  his  line.  He  revelled  in  the  denun- 
ciatory. •  He  commanded  your  attendance  at  church,  and, 
once  within  the  sacred  inclosure,  fastened  his  keen  eye  on 
you  like  a  basilisk.  If  by  any  chance  you  were  betrayed 
into  a  smile  during  his  sermon,  he  endeavored  to  make  you 
bitterly  repent  it — and  vow  never  again  to  place  yourself 
under  his  tutelage.  At  such  times  he  would  pause  abruptly, 
and,  pointing  at  you  his  prodigious  hand,  solemnly  rebul* 
you  for  irreverence.  You  were  happy,  indeed,  if  you  escaped 
hearing  your  name  loudly  called  before  the  whole  congrega- 
tion ;  their  entire  battery  of  eyes  was  quite  sufficient  punish- 
ment. He  was  slovenly  in  costume ;  invariably  appearing  in 
public  with  disordered  hair  and  filthy  linen,  soiled  hands  with 
black-rimmed  finger-nails.  Deborah  culled  him  "  A  mortal 


RUBINA.  249 

nasty  crittur;"  but  he  described  himself  as  "being  not  worldly 
minded" — bringing  up  the  fishermen  of  Galilee  as  illustrious 
precedents.  I  suspect  he  would  have"  failed  of  proof  that 
they  eschewed  decent  cleanliness,  even  in  the  pursuit  of  their 
calling.  A  disgusting  scent  of  bad  tobacco,  both  chewed 
and  smoked,  polluted  his  presence ;  as  a  consequence,  the 
shining  stove-hearth  bore  sad  witness  to  his  visits.  When  a 
fit  of  religious  converse  seized  him,  he  drew  a  chair  to  your 
side,  staring  full  in  your  face  with  impudent  bravado,  and 
resenting  as  a  deadly  insult  your  instinctive  shrinking  away 
from  him  and  his  teachings. 

One  could  scarcely  be  blamed  for  vanishing  into  the  nearest 
hiding-place,  at  the  unwelcome  sight  of  his  loosely  built,  shuf- 
fling figure,  filing  through  the  little  gate  leading  to  the  kitchen. 
Elder  Fuller  also  awakened  one  unhappy  day  to  a  conscious- 
ness of  his  criminal  neglect  of  needful  pastoral  duties,  and 
forthwith  inaugurated  an  energetic  round  of  visits.  On  these 
dreaded  occasions  all  work  was  suspended,  and  a  semi-circle 
of  prayer  formed,  in  which  Debby — though  strongly  pressed 
— would"  never  be  initiated.  She  glowered  through  the  open 
pantry  door  at  her  old  enemy,  until — his  duty  finished — he 
departed.  "  The  husbandman  soweth  his  seed  in  sorrow  and 
care,  but  he  reapeth  a  glorious  harvest,"  was  his  accustomed 
finish  to  these  spiritual  programmes ;  or,  for  a  variation, 
"  Paul  may  plant  and  Apollos  water,  but  it  is  God  alone  who 
gr>eth  the  increase."  He  gave  this  last  word  a  relishing 
smack  in  conclusion,  as  if,  in  some  mysterious  way,  tasting 
its  prolific  flavor. 

.He  stopped  sinners  in  the  street     He  waylaid  laborers 

going  to  their  work,  to  warn  them  of  the  wrath  to   come. 

In  roaring  caldrons  of  factories  he  plunged  his  fiery   zeal, 

and  over  the  machinery's    continuous  hum,   rose  resonant 

11* 


250  EUBINA. 

his  terrific  exhortations  to  the  pale-faced  operatives.  He 
palsied  their  reason,  with  graphic  limnings  of  a  speedily 
approaching  judgment.  lie  overwhelmed  their  tired  souls 
and  bodies  with  dramatic  gesticulations  of  the  wrath  of  an 
offended  Judge.  He  pointed  to  the  ceaselessly  revolving 
shafts ;  thus  intimating  their  bodily  danger,  and  then  sud- 
denly hurled  before  them  the  fearful  question,  "  Where  would 
your  souls  be  then?"  Not  one  word  was  dropped  into 
grieving  souls,  of  God's  infinitude  of  mercy  and  love :  no 
hope  held  out  of  future  repentance,  when  drawn  by  universal 
laws,  each  and  all  should  some  day  find  a  home  in  the  bosom 
of  the  Father.  "  Now  !  Now  !"  he  greedily  cried,  "  Now 
is  the  accepted  time  ;  now  is  the  day  of  salvation.  It  is  the 
last  call  of  the  Spirit.  Hearken  to  its  merciful  cry,  or  remain 
forever  given  over  by  His  grace." 

People  'laughed  at  first ;  then  grew  serious.  Their  com- 
bined labors  kindled  the  slumbrous  embers  of  religious  excite- 
ment into  a  glowing.flame.  Of  course,  I  attended  the  meetings. 
In  accordance  with  earnest  entreaties,  I  rose  for  prayers.  I 
visited  the  "anxious  seat,"  in  turn  with  my  seeking  sisters.  I 
successively  tried  all  the  special  localities  pointed  out  as  means 
for  obtaining  grace.  The  genial  shower  descended  on  the 
thirsty  pools  in  my  neighbor's  hearts;  filled  and  refreshed 
them.  Mine,  it  left  dusty  and  barren  as  before.  Deceive, 
I  would  not;  so  when  the  nightly  question  came,  "Do  you  feel 
a  change  of  heart  ?"  as  usual,  my  answer  was  a  negative  sha*ke 
of  my  despondent  head.  "  At  least,  you  feel  yourself  to  be  a 
lost  sinner,  deserving  especial  condemnation?"  I  did  not, 
and  I  said  so.  Then  my  heartlessness  and  ingratitude  were 
commented  upon,  and  publicly  held  up  to  the  gaze  of  the 
scornful.  I  was  used  for  a  warning  to  other  awakened  sin- 
ners, lest  they,  too,  protract  the  period  of  delay,  and  likewise 


RUBINA.  251 

be  given  over  by  tbe  Deity.  I  was  pronounced  a  fit  vessel 
for  Divine  wrath,  and  awarded  a  place  with  outcast  swine ; 
their  unsavory  husks,  and  putrefying  morsels,  freely  doled 
out  as  my  only  inherited  sustenance. 

It  was  too  unpalatable  fare.  I  sickened  and  fled  from  it 
and  its  administrators  in  heartfelt  disgust . 

"  Wall,"  said  Aunt  Rhoda,  one  evening,  tying  on  her  black 
silk  hood,  as  usual,  "  Ruby,  it's  high  time  we're  a  startin'."  . 

I  made  some  excuse  for  not  leaving  Demis  alone. 

"  She  needn't  be  alone,"  she  retorted  with  a  cutting 
glance.  "  I'd  be  glad  to  have  her  go  in  my  room.  But  there's 
no  use  in  askin'  her,  and  I  shan't  let  you  throw  away  this 
chance  of  salvation."  She  looked  at  me  as  if  that  settled  the 
matter ;  no  more  words  need  be  wasted.  All  I  had  to  do 
was  to  meekly  rise,  open  the  press  door,  take  down  my  own 
black  hood  and  shawl,  and  follow  her.  Demis  eyed  me 
askance,  to  see  if  I  would  yield  the  point  so  tamely.  My  re- 
ply came  resolutely  :  "  I  have  done.  I  grow  more  obdurately 
indifferent  the  longer  I  go.  Then,  their  falling  to  the  floor, 
struck  with  '  the  power,'  is  more  disagreeable  than  all  else." 

"  Those  are  the  Methodists,"  she  said. 

u  Yes.     But  they  are  all  under  the  same  influence." 

"  Very  well.  Suit  yourself,  and  you'll  suit  me,"  she  re- 
torted curtly.  She  opened  the  door  quickly  and  shut  herself 
out.  Demis  eyed  me  archly. 

"  So  you're  a  sinner,  still,  Ruby.  I'm  glad  of  it,  I  like  you 
better  as  you  are.  I  used  to  go ;  and  many  a  time  I've  plung- 
ed a  darning-needle  into  the  flesh  of  those  lying  like  logs 
on  the  floor.  They  started  quick  enough,  I  assure  you."  •  • 
Our  lessons  suffered  slow  decapitation.  First  one  branch,  then 
another,  was  relentlessly  chipped  away — ostensibly,  from  want 
of  time ;  really,  from  sheer  disinclination  for  study.  In  this 


252  RUBINA. 

cowardly  abandonment  Demis  led  the  van.  She  said  "  she 
was  too  tired ;"  and  when  the  schoolmaster  brought  out  the 
books,  drawing  up  a  chair  beside  her,  she  would  draw  back 
a  little,  take  up  a  volume,  listlessly,  and,  after  trying  in  vain 
to  give  her  attention  to  its  contents,  lean  her  head  thought- 
fully on  the  back  of  her  chair,  and  sigh  wearily..  I  often  stole 
from  the  room,  leaving  them  alone  thus  for  hours,  and  they 
never  seemed  to  miss  me.  Neither  did  my  well-meant  ab- 
sence appear  to  do  Demis  any  good ;  for,  on  coming  back  to 
it,  she  would  still  be  gazing  thoughtfully  into  the  air,  while 
the  schoolmaster  would  have  opened  and  become  absorbed 
in  any  chance  volume.  One  day,  when  this  pantomime  had 
been  successfully  repeated,  Mr.  Hume  threw  down  his  book, 
and  turned  to  me  laughingly.  "  What  is  the  matter  with 
me,  Miss  Ruby  ?"  I  was  so  astonished  that  I  did  not  answer. 
"  Because,"  he  went  on,  "  your  cousin  is  evidently  afraid  of 
me.  I  must  have  seriously  changed." 

"No,"  she  stammered,  awkwardly. 

"  She  treated  me,  a  year  ago,  like  a  human  being.  I  havn't 
forgotten  the  apple  wreath — "  He  started  up  and  went  to 
her ;  for  she  had  burst  into  violent  sobbings.  He  took  her 
hand.  She  did  not  answer  his  concerned  inquiry,  and  he 
looked  down  on 'her  aghast,  but  presently  rallied.  "  What 
a  tiny  hand,"  he  cried,  cheerfully.  "  I  believe,  Miss  Ruby, 
that  it  belongs  to  the  fairies.  She  evidently  got  it  by  mis- 
take." He  pretended  to  whisper  this  wondrous  intelligence. 
She  hastily  withdrew  it  to  cover  her  face. 

"  Ah  !  she  thinks  a  poor  mortal  not  good  enough  to  touch 
it,"  he  cried,  with  mock  fervor.  "  I  wonder  if  the  other  one 
is  similar !  Oh  yes,  I  see  it  now !  It's  the  other's  mate, 
and  therefore  not  for  me,"  he  added,  meaningly.  She  ceased 
Bobbing  instantly.  A  flash  of  cold  pride  swept  over  her 


RUBINA.  253 

face  with  lightning  fury.  He  had  turned  to  me,  and  did  not 
see  the  token,  as  he  still  pursued — in  a  bantering  tone — "  I 
must,  then,  have  recourse  to  one  of  earthly  lineage  " — and 
seizing  mine — "  I  believe  firmly  in  electric  affinities.  Now 
when  my  electricities  are  too  redundant,  I  seek  to  dispose  of 
a  few  in  this  manner.  You  perceive * 

I  lost  the  rest  in  watching  Demis.  Her  eyes  flashed 
scornfully,  and  she  threw  us  a  jealousglance — a  reproachful  one 
it  was  to  me.  I  forced  a  careless  laugh.  "  Oh  !  pray  go  on, 
Mr.  Hume.  You  are  rapidly  verging  toward  the  transcen- 
dental.^  '  Redundant  affinities ' — Demis,  you  may  have  my 
share." 

He  went  on,  unheeding.  "  Now  this  is  something  tangible," 
surveying  my  long  fingers,  '*  tolerably  well-shaped ;  not  des- 
tined for  show  at  all ;  run  in  the  right  mould  for  trills  and 
quavers,  and  scales  on  the  piano-forte,  which  fairies  are  never 
expected  to  perform.  Are^they,  Queen  Demis?" 

She  smiled,  mockingly,  the  jealous  fire  still  slumbering  in  her 
dark  eyes,  and  humored  his  bantering  mood.  "Oh  yes, 
child  of  earth ;  but  it  is  too  exquisite  for  mortal  ears  !  Thy 
grossness  cannot  catch  the  soundless  vibrations  of  the  melo- 
dies from  my  ancestral  home.  Its  speech  thou  canst  not  di- 
vine, oh,  fragment  of  mortality  !" 

He  retorted  pleadingly,  "  Oh !  Queen  of  the  beneficent  fair- 
ies, torture  not  our  expectant  ears  by  such'  words  of  discourage- 
ment !  Rather  salute  them  with  a  gracious  sample  of  that  rav- 
ishing music.  Thy  servant  is  unworthy,  but  will  be  grate- 
ful." 

The  "  beneficent  queen  "  remained  sulky  and  mute.  "  Do 
you  sing  ?"  he  said  suddenly. 

"  No  !  I  went  to  singing-school  a  few  times,  and  zealously 
did  my  sweetest  sounds  on  do-re-mi — I  thought  myself  pro- 


254  KUBINA. 

gressing  famously.  Then  imagine  my  horror  one  evening, 
when  our  worthy  chorister  suddenly  brought  down  his  fiddle- 
bow  on  the  black-board  with  a  rap  that  made  us  all  start  ner- 
vously— "  Stop  !"  he  thundered.  "  I  want  to  find  where  those 
horrid  sounds  come  from  ;"  and  he  coolly  proceeded  to-try 
the  voices,  separately,  on  the  blissful  rise  and  fall  of  the  eight 
notes.  In  serene  ignorance  I  essayed  my  turn  at  ascending 
the  musical  ladder.  I  didn't  return  the  way  I  went,  and 
there  my  voice  remains  to  this  day,  perched  on  the  topmost 
round  of  high  '  do.'  I  have  never  had  courage  to  bring  it 
down  by  myself,  and  I  suspect,  long  ere  this,  the  poor  outcast 
has  perished  of  starvation,  cold,  or  affright." 

"  But  what  was  the  matter  with  it  ?"  cried  Mr.  Hume, 
smiling. 

"  '  Miss  —you — what's  your  name  ?'  asked  the  crusty  old 
chorister.  '  Brooks,'  I  repeated,  demurely.  '  Well,  Miss 
Brooks,  you'll  never  learn  music.  You  have  about  as  much 
voice  as  a  tree-toad ;'  and  he  turned  away,  laughing  as 
he  resumed  his  fiddle-bow,  at  once  restored  to  good  hu- 
mor. Such  discipline  was  not  to  be  repeated.  I  manag- 
ed to  sit  the  evening  out,  tranquilly,  in  spite  of  sundry  mali- 
cious winks  and  sneers  from  my  melodious  neighbors ;  but 
it  was  a  cruel  disenchantment  I  never  again  ventured." 

"  I  cannot  help  thinking,"  said  the  schoolmaster,  thought- 
fully, "  that  it  is  but  'an  instance  of  what  we  must  look  for 
constantly  in  this  life  ;  and  it  is  far  better  that  our  ignorant 
illusions  should  be  torn  to  tatters,  than  to  carry  them  around 
constantly,  and  so,  never  at  liberty  to  seek  for  the  real.  I 
call  it  a  kind  hand  that  robs  me  of  mine,  and  thougli  it  may 
be  meant  in  malice,  I  will  bless  it,  nevertheless.  You  are, 
certainly,  divested  of  one  delusion,  and  at  liberty  to  turn 
your  devotions  elsewhere.  Miss  Demis," — pretending  to 


RUBINA.  255 

consult  an  imaginary  document — "  you  are  next  on  the .  list 
for  musical  experiences." 

"  She  has  none  of  that  nature,"  I  interrupted  ;  "she  sings 
like  a  lark." 

"  Ruby,"  she  began,  deprecatingly.  Mr.  Hume  interposed 
•with  fresh  entreaties.  After  a  little  hesitation,  she  complied. 

The  schoolmaster  looked  enchanted,  as  she  finished,  trem- 
ulously. "  I  never  heard  a  sweeter  voice,  Miss  Demis." 

Oh !  magic  of  praise  !  Demis's  languor  vanished ; 
her  dark  eyes  brightened  with  pleasure.  She  drew  herself 
up  in  stately  pride,  and  her  voice  took  a  fuller,  richer,  ca- 
dence, as  it  broke  into  another  old  ballad.  She  rendered  it 
with  touching  pathos.  She  felt  it  to  the  quick,  with  sym- 
pathetic intuition,  every  word  of  that  passionate  song.  The 
plaintive  air  brought  tears  to  both  of  her  listeners'  eyes. 
Hers  were  earnest  and  clear,  with  a  strange,  absent  expres- 
sion, as  though  she — in,  to  us,  invisible  realms — saw  with 
vivid,  spiritual  ken,  that  despairing,  unhappy  lover.  This 
time,  the  schoolmaster  was  silent. 

I  suggested  another,  and  yet  another.  Wrapped  in  the 
soothing  atmosphere  of  such  music,  the  hours  sped  too 
quickly.  The  singer  had,  apparently,  forgotten  her  audience. 
She  roamed  from  song  to  song,  as  fancy  dictated — like  a  but- 
terfly choosing  his  flowery  couch ;  as  a  bee  daintily  gather- 
ing honied  juices.  Now,  she  gave  us  a  verse  in  sad  minor ; 
then,  suddenly  changed  it  to  a  lively  Tyrolese  air;  then, 
grave,  Puritan  hymns,  which  her  dead  grandfather  had 
taught  her  when  a  little  child — floated  out  into  being,  with 
stirring  martial  neighbors :  then  we  failed  to  recognize  the 
words.  She  was  improvising  both  words  and  air,  as  she 
leaned  her  head  on  her  hand,  and  gazed  dreamily  out  of 
the  window.  Sad,  unearthly  warblings  of  magical  beauty  ! 


256  RTJBINA. 

Did  she  catch  the  refrain  of  the  angels,  that  she  looked  with 
such  intensified  gaze  into  space,  pouring  forth  the  plaint  of 
a  bruised  heart,  that,  bending  slowly,  but  surely,  with  its 
weight  of  care  and  sorrow,  gets  courage  to  lift  itself  at  last 
above  all  hopeless  loves  of  earth ;  courage  to  tread  the  airy 
heights  heavenward.  Sweeter  it  grew,  and  more  ethereal. 

It  shook  us  off,  and  dropped  us  far  beneath,  as  we  essayed 
to  grope  after.  Far,  far  in  the  distance  it  sounded.  No 
earthly  element,  now,  could  hinder  its  exultant  flight,  as,  reft 
of  detaining  chords,  the  once  caged  earthling  beat  against 
the  very  gates  of  Paradise  ;  knocked,  and  demanded  admit- 
tance. 

It  was  perhaps  strange,  but  in  those  few  brief  moments  I 
had  a  feeling  as  if  Demis  was  actually  dead ;  her  body  rigid 
in  her  chair.  As  if  I  had  been  watching  the  immortal  spirit's 
flight,  instead  of  her  voice.  As  the  last  bird-like  whisper 
died  in  silence,  I  rose  and  went  to  her.  She  started  into 
her  usual  self  immediately. 

"  I  never  heard  such  singing  before,"  said  Mr.  Hume, 
softly.  "  I  could  listen  to  it  forever ;  and  I  could  quarrel 
with  Ruby  for  dissolving  the  spell."  I  sighed,  and  looked 
at  Demis  anxiously. 

"  That  voice,"  he  resumed,  admiringly,  "  would  make  your 
fortune." 

"  I  am  glad  you  like  it,"  she  said  simply. 

"  Like  !  I  adore  music,"  he  cried  with  enthusiasm.  "  But 
I  could  never  learn  its  rules.  I  cannot  wait  for  them ;  the 
slow  plodding  things.  I  want  to  give  them  wings,  and 
mount  upward — as -you  did  just  now,  my  sister."  She 
winced  a  little.  "  I  disdain  preliminaries,"'  he  added  laugh- 
ingly, "so  you  see  I  was 'not  'cut  out'  by  good  mother 
Nature  for  an  artist.  But  you  are,  Miss  Demis." 


RUBINA.  -  25Y 

"  Does  she  often  sing  like  this  ?"  he  inquired,  turning  to  me. 

"  Yes.  And  not  exactly  like  this  either ;  but  our  little 
room  is'  made  vocal,  almost  nightly.  In  the  still,  solemn  • 
midnight,  I  wake  with  a  start  to  find  her  dreamily  gazing 
out  of  the  window,  and  softly  sighing  to  the  clear  moonlight 
— not  loud  enough  to  waken  the  household — these  unutter- 
able melodies." 

"  Why  do  you  not  write  them  down  for  the  piano  ?" 
eagerly  inquired  the  matter-of-fact  schoolmaster. 

"I  never  saw  a  piano,"  she  answered  calmly,  "but  I  have 
imagined*  one.  These  sounds  I  never  try  to  remember. 
They  come  and  go  of  their  own  will.  Sometimes,  I  have  a 
feeling,  that  I  am  repeating  them  after  some  one ;  who,  I 
cannot  tell.  Sometimes  they  surge  up  so  stormily  in  my 
heart  that  I  cannot  sleep,  and  then  I  find  no  rest  until  I 
give  them  vent." 

Inexplicable  mysteries  surround  us;  mould  us  to  their 
will.  "  What  becomes  of  these,  our  mental  offspring,  born 
amid  throes  of  reluctant  compulsion,  and  vague,  silent  throbs 
for  sympathy  ?  In  darkness,  in  weariness,  in  misapprehen- 
sion ;  in  cruel  unkindness,  and  bitter,  scathing  neglect ;  in 
winter's  frosts,  and  amid  the  tropical  glow  of  summer, 
struggling  equally  with  frantic  haste  for  their  birthright: 
compelling  us,  earthly  parents,  to  do  their  imperious  bidding, 
and  give  them  expression.  For,  every  word,  and  every 
sound,  is  but  the  birth  of  an  idea ;  and  the  human  swarms 
infesting  this  globe  are  the  willing  or  reluctant  progenitors. 
What  state  receives  them  as  they  float  away  from  our  lips  ? 
What  higher  life  crowns  them  with  permanence,  before  so 
inert,  so  powerless  ?  Or,  do  they  retain  an  immortal  spark 
of  gratitude  for  their  birth,  and  constantly  haunt  our  vicinity, 
invisible  to  our  dull  perceptions  ?  Ah !  Heaven  and  hell 


258  RUBINA. 

are  not  the  only  mysteries  which  our  disembodied  souls 
shall  encounter,  if,  in  the  state  beyond,  our  rightful  expiation 
for  sin  shall  be  to  religiously  trace,  to  its  very  core  and 
minute  ramifications,  the  effects  of  our  spoken  words  and  deeds. 

After  this,  Demis  frequently  sang  for  the  schoolmaster. 
Lessons  were  tacitly  abandoned,  with  few  and  far  between 
days  of  repentant  resurrection.  He  cleared  the  books  all 
away  one  evening,  bringing  down,  instead,  an  armful  of 
lighter  literature.  m 

"  Though  not  a  devourer  of  novels,"  he  remarked,  while 
arranging  them  on  the  table,  "  there  is  nothing,  to'  my  mind, 
that  relaxes  overstrained  mental  tension  like  a  good  story. 
Of  course,  I  don't  allude  to  those  of  an  exciting  nature. 
Something  calm,  sedately  humorous,  with  a  keen  tinge  of 
irony  flashing  here  and  there,  provoking  mirth,  like  this  good 
old  '  Vicar  of  Waken* eld'  for  instance.  We  will  read  it  again : 
it  is  always  new.  Now,  my  pupils,"  he  resumed,  glancing 
around,  "  you  have  had  a  plea  for  novel  reading,  I  suppose 
you  should  rightfully  have  one  against  it.  Though  I  cannot 
tell  a  tale  of  its  effects — '  drawn  from  sad  experience' — I 
should  think  there  would  be  nothing  more  effective  than  a 
severe  bodily  task  to  counteract  the  evil  of  too  much  romance 
reading — especially  if  your  imagination  appropriates  the 
woes  of  the  heroine ;  endeavoring  to  put  all  it  reads  into 
practice.  Fill  the  hands  with  something  necessary  to  be 
done  for  a  human  being ;  once  earnestly  engaged  in  doing  it, 
it  is  astonishing  how  quickly  the  baleful  imps  flee,  leaving 
the  storied  brain  once  more  fresh  and  clear.  None  of  your 
wearing  away  either.  A  spring  for  the  hat ;  a  violent 
wrench  of  the  door-latch; — not  even  a  civil  good-morning — 
and  you  are  well  quit  of  them.  But  we  are  not  arrived  at 
that  point  yet,  and  we  will  have  alternate  reading — unless, 


RUBINA.  259 

indeed,  you  are  tired  of  your  preceptor,  and  his  dictatorial 
ways,  and  court  solitude,  or  have  some  important  sam- 
plers to  embroider — senseless  work !  allow  me  to  say.  The 
letters  in  the  alphabet  are  so  much  prettier;  but  I  don't 
see  any,"  and  he  looked  with  a  relieved  air,  around  the 
room. 

Moses  being  tricked  out  for  the  fair,  especially  pleased 
Demis.  Her  humorous  fancy  caught  the  scene  immediately, 
and  wove  round  it  fertile  flashes  of  merriment ;  though  she 
had  read  it  before.  I  was  not,  therefore,  surprised  when,  a 
few  days  later,  a  small  engraving,  representing  his  return 
with  his  bargain  of  spectacles,  appeared  mysteriously  upon 
the  table,  addressed  to  Demis.  She  was  delighted.  She 
carried  the  picture  to  her  room  at  night ;  for  aught  I  know, 
she  slept  with  it  under  her  usually  sleepless  pill.ow.  At  all 
events,  she  did  not  sing  that  night,  but  lay  quiet  and  motion- 
less till  morning.  One  trifle  also  more.  She  forgot  that 
the  wrapper  was  the  coarsest  of  brown  paper,  and,  in  a  tem- 
porary aberration  of  consciousness,  folded  it  carefully,  and 
thoughtfully  placed  it  away  in  her  drawer.  And  in  the  suc- 
ceeding days  her  cheeks  grew  bright  again,  and  her  light 
step  flitted  round  the  house  as  freely  as  ever.  And  hope, 
which  never  utterly  dies  from  out  the  human  heart,  until 
that  heart  itself  lies  cold  and  coffined,  sprang  once  more 
into  newer,  fuller,  fresher  life  than  ever.  And  a  thousand 
green,  dewy  possibilities  flung  out  a  gorgeous  foliage,  under 
which  she  blissfully  sat,  and  wove  them  all  into  fond,  fervent 
realities. 


260  KUBENA. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  genial  spring-time  chased  away  the  frosts  of  winter. 
Mr.  Hume  still  lingered  in  Northfield.  His  school  was  'end- 
ed. The  short  college  vacation  had  also  flown  on  the 
wings  of  this  strange  delay.  Indeed,  the  ensuing  summer 
term  had  just  commenced;  yet,  here  he  was,  recklessly 
squandering  the  precious  hours  in  a  round  of  visits  among 
his  pupils,  and  in  long  readings  to  us  at  home,  with  no  ap- 
parent thought  for  other  duties.  If  I  wearied  myself  in 
conjecturing  causes,  that  imperturbable  countenance  instantly 
negatived  them.  No  impatience  corrugated  that  smooth 
forehead  into  thoughtful  frowns ;  no  anxiety — real  or  sup- 
Dressed — wreathed  one  trace  around  the  smiling  mouth.  It 
seemed  only  the  undisguised  aversion  of  an  indolent  nature 
towards  speedily  assuming  a  new  harness  of  labor. 

To  D.emis,  his  presence  brought  new  life.  In  the  days 
which  he  passed  away  from  her,  she  visibly  languished ; 
wearily  complaining  of  the  murky  dampness  of  the  atmos- 
phere, and  the  hours  of  uninterrupted  monotony ;  but  with 
his  return,  her  health  and  spirits  again  flowed  back  to  their 
former  even  channels.  This  change  was  so  apparent,  that 
it  seemed  almost  impossible  but  that  her  father  and  mother's 
serene  obtuseness  must  be  quickened  thereby  into  vigilant 
life  and  action.  Debby,  orriy,  looked  thoughtfully  conscious. 
She  muttered  strange  sentences,  while  going  about  her  work ; 
casting  the  schoolmaster  sharp  glances  of  dissatisfaction. 
When  they  were  alone  in  the  keeping-room,  she  frequently 
contrived  the  most  improbable  errands  as  an  excuse  for  en- 
tering, until  warned  to  keep  away  by  Derais's  inquiring  look. 


RUBIKA.  261 

"  I  don  know  nothin  'bout  se«h  truck,"  I  overheard  her 
mutter  after  one  of  these  voluntary  expulsions. 

"  Seems  to  me  now,  ef  I'se  in  her  shoes  I'd  gin  him  a  dish 
of  arb  tea,  and  tell  him  to  start  his  pegs  for  hum,  short  order ; 
but  I  don  know.  Mabbe  I  should  up  and  do  jest  so  myself; 
gals  be  fools  'bout  some  things.  Ihaint  so  much  of'n  opinion 
o'  him  as  I  have  had.  Don't  seem  good  milk  porridge  to 
me  ;  but  rnabbe  'tis ;  I'm  only  a  passenger." 

Toward  Demis,  the  schoolmaster's  manner  daily  assumed 
a  more  caressing  tenderness.  His  thoughtful  care  for  her 
health  and  comfort  was  assiduous,  though  unobtrusive.  His 
face  wore  a  perpetual  smile  in  her  presence ;  if  it  ever  sad- 
dened with  self-reproach,  it  must  have  been  only  in  solitude. 
But,  if  he  drew  daily  nearer  her  heart,  in  closer  communion, 
/  as  surely  retreated — waved  back  by  the  influence  injore 
powerful  than  mine  ;  the  will — to  mine — antagonistic.  His 
love  for  her  was  less  pure  than  mine ;  I  felt,  I  knew  it,  and 
I  resisted  sturdily.  Inch  by  inch  I  was  fought  from  the 
occupancy  of  those  pleasant  pastures,  mine,  I  thought,  by 
virtue  of  k»ng  years  of  inhabitancy,  until,  in  the  outmost 
verge,  one  more  vigorous  thrust  placed  me  beyond  the  pale,  and 
bolts  and  bars  closing  after  prevented  any  forcible  re-entrance. 

And  I !  Oh !  in  those  leaden  April  days,  I  grew  to  hate 
them  both.  Already,  saddened  by  neglect,  and  sneering 
indifference,  jealousy  prompted  another  sting,  and  it 
plunged  deep  in  the  festering  wound — quivering  there,  as 
only  the  barb  can  quiver  that  sucks  the  life-blood  of  your 
dearest ;  best.  Do  you  think,  however,  that  I  thrust  up  the 
gory  spectacle  as  a  feast  for  their  eyes?  as  a  lure  for  needed 
pity?  I  felt  no  such  pusillanimous  emotion.  I  longed  for 
no  such  remnants  of  charity.  Had  pity  been  mingled  in  the 
fare  I  received,  the  cup — overflowing — would  have  been 


262  RUBIN  A. 

dashed  back  in  their  faces,,  regardless  of  consequences.  I 
suffered — for  it  is  the  bitterness  of  death  for  a  woman  to 
be  so  cruelly  misunderstood — and  neither  read  me  rightly. 
To  Demis  my  heart  steeled,  because  I  saw  that,  in  spite  of 
her  jealous  injustice  toward  me,  in  spite  of  our  unhappy 
estrangement,  happiness  for  her  woke  to  a  new,  a  diviner 
experience,  and  vividly  flushed  her  future.  Alas  !  mine  rose 
up  before  my  shrinking  eyes,  blank  and  barren  as  a  desert 
isle ;  and  it  is  an  added  drop  to  misery,  to  turn  thus  from 
inward  desolation,  and,  gazing  out  on  broad,  fair  plains, 
reflect  that  they  lie  forever  beyond  our  reach.  Yet  not  an 
useless  drop ;  for  the  eye,  sharpened  by  suffering,  pierces 
below  the  veil  of  surface  forms  ah,d  professions,  beholding 
— as  clearly  as  the  material  eye  the  pebbly  bottom  of  a 
brook — the  real  soil,  bearing  the  guiding  motive. 

Elliot  Hume,  then,  I  beheld,  as  a  cold,  careless  experi- 
menter. At  the  first  revelation,  scorn  and  indignation  froze 
love  and  regret  to  silence.  I  could  now  watch  their  apparent 
devotion ;  their  obliviousness  of  my  presence.  I  could  specu- 
late upon  the  reason  for  his  often  involuntary  repulse  of  her 
too  evident  preference  for  his  society.  I  could  smile  inwardly 
at  her  signs  of  distress,  and  at  the  reappearance  of  the  moth 
around  the  flame — his  coldness  never  lingered.  "  Be  it  so, 
if  you  both  will  it,"  thought  I,  "  I  can  bear  my  own  ap- 
portionment. The  end  will  surely  come,  and,  Elliot  Hume, 
itmust  bring  you  but  a  bitter  triumph.  I  would  walk  through 
seas  of  pain,  fiery  tongues  consume  me,  ere  I  stoop  from 
my  safe,  sure  foundations,  to  give  you  one  helping  word." 

Demis  writhed  at  his  railings  against  women  ;  his  un- 
founded, sweeping  accusations  ;  but  she  dared — or  could — not 
set  her  love  aside,  to  array  herself  in  arms  against  him. 
They  stirred  my  very  soul  into  wrathful  disclaimers — fed, 


RUBINA.  263 

perhaps,  by  a  desire  to  avenge  my  own  insult  in  this  species 
of  retaliation.  I  did  not  feel  the  philanthropic  outbreaks  I 
uttered.  No  generous  pity  stirred  my  heart  for  those — 
unknown — so  pitifully,  mutely,  pleading  for  the  world's  sym- 
pathy :  woman  rarely  feels  such  sisterly  pity,  until  she  has 
been  scathed  by  the  same  fiery  ordeal.  If  she,  in  her  un- 
thinking ignorance,  arraigns  such  at  her  bar,  and  judges 
without  even  a  low  call  for  evidence,  what  wonder  ?  when 
man — strong  and  able  to  wrest  approval  from  the  frowning 
world  for  any  deed,  however  unnaturally  noble  and  helpful — 
scorns,  still  more  intensely  ?  Words  rolled  from  Elliot 
Hume's  lips,  saturated  in  fierce  opprobrium.  His  gesture, 
his  glance,  spake  even  more.  Oh !  merciless,  indeed,  the 
heart  throbbing  within  that  breast,  and  too  common  a  type 
of  manhood.  What  matter  indeed,  for  individual  sufferers, 
so  the  great  whole  of  the  world's  virtuous  standard  be 
maintained?  Such  atoms  had  better  be  crushed  by  the 
coming  car  of  Juggernaut,  to  afford  freer  space  for  purer 
garments.  The  world  recks  not  of  such  unsavory  obitu- 
aries. 

A  letter  came  one  day  for  my  aunt ;  a  rare  advent  in  the 
family,  'and  therefore  scrutinized  with  curious  glances. 
"Wall,"  at  length  suggested  Uncle  Joel,  "it  strikes  me  that 
the  easiest  way  to  find  out  'bout  it  is  to  open  it."  So  the 
red  wafer,  bearing  on  its  moistened  surface  the  legible  im- 
press of  a  thimble,  was  carefully  cut  out,  and  preserved ;  the 
missive  unfolded  and  perused. 

"  It's  from  Hannah,"  observed  Aunt  Rhoda,  "  sayin'  she'll 
be  down  in  June,  to  stay  a  spell.  I  guess  you'll  have  to  give 
up  teachin',  Ruby ;  there'll  be  oceans  to  do,  if  they  come." 
Deborah  gave  a  scornful  sniff. 

"Ifl'se  them,  I'd  stay  to  hum,"  observed  she;  "'haint 


264  RUBINA. 

seen  hide  nor  hair  of  'em  for  goin'  on  ten  year ;  nor  writ 
nuther,  latterly.  Jes'  remember  they've  got  connection 
out'n  the  country.  Wonder  what  started  'em  up  so,  all  of  a 
sudden  ?  can  anybody  tell  me  ?" 

Dwight  could.  He  remembered — with  importance — that, 
"the  papers  were  full  about  the  cholery.  I 'spose  they're 
'fraid  o'  catchin'  it." 

"  Hum,  hum,"  Deborah  nodded  her  head  meditatively. 
"  If  that's  what  they're  aimin'  at,  I  wish  they'd  stay  where 
they  be ;  nobody  wants  to  wait  on  'em,  as  I  knows  on.  I 
know  one  that  don't."  And  she  looked  extremely  ireful. 

"  At  any  rate,"  said  her  mistress  decisively,  "  we  shan't 
let  on  but  what  we're  glad  to  see  'em  ;  so  least  said,  soonest 
mended  'bout  that  ere." 

I  had  never  seen  these  relatives.  One  letter — extremely 
brief— came  soon  after  my  mother's  death,  filled  with  expres- 
sions of  sorrow  that  "Car' line  couldn't  hav^  lived  longer,"  and 
closing  by  saying  that  in  five  years  she  should  "  claim  us, 
for  as  long  a  stay.  She  always  meant  to  do  her  duty,"  <fec., 
<kc.  This  one  she  failed  to  do,  either  through  after  pruden- 
tial motives,  or  from  utter  forgetfulness  of  her  impromptu 
promise,  I  knew  not  which  and  little  cared,  as  I  dreaded 
going  among  strangers,  and  my  mother  had  never  spoken 
very  affectionately  of  this  relative.  Demis  strengthened 
this  repugnance  by  relating  the  incidents  of  a  visit  to  her 
aunt  when  quite  a  little  girl.  I  had  no  desire  to  repeat 
them. 

This  intelligence,  together  with  the  annual  cleaning, 
prosecuted  with  unwonted  ardor  in  anticipation  of  Aunt 
Hannah's  prying  eyes,  put  Mr.  Hume  to  flight.  He  laugh- 
ingly declared  himself  "turned  away  from  home  to  make 
room  for  strangers;"  though  promising — if  nothing  hap- 


RUBINA.  265 

pened  of  a  calamitous  nature  to  prevent  it — to  "  run  down 
and  see  us  in  August,  during  the  long  vacation."  After 
packing  his  luggage,  he  came  down  with  a  book  in  either 
hand  for  "his  sisters  to  look  at  when  they  were  in  danger 
of  forgetting  their  brother."  I  took  mine  mechanically,  with 
a  few  cold  words  of  acknowledgment,  wondering  if  it  was — 
after  all — a  purely  brotherly  feeling  he  entertained  for  Demis, 
as  he  stooped  to  shake  her  hand  and  to  smile  back  her  glee- 
ful thanks.  Her  wistful  eye  seemed  still  to  detain  him. 
The  simple  farewell  formula  had  been  spoken ;  hand-shakings 
successfully  accomplished.  Why  then  did  he  still  linger? 
I  thought  that  he  wished  a  few  words  alone  with  my  cousin, 
and  taking  the  pitcher,  I  went  to  the  well  to  fill  it ;  it  was 
the  readiest  excuse  for  gratifying  their  evident  wish.  As  I 
opened  the  door  I  caught  their  lowered  voices ;  his — tremu- 
lous with  agitation,  sweet,  earnest,  tenderly  asking, "  Do  you 
doubt  my  faith !  Remember,  I  have  your  promise."  Her 
happy  laugh  answered  him.  I  had  hardly  reached  the  well 
when  he  joined  me.  "  How  did  you  fathom  my  desire  to 
see  you  alone  ?"  he  asked,  with  a  confident  laugh. 

I  stared  in  surprise.     "  I  did  not,"  was  my  cold  answer. 

"Well,"  he  began,  hesitatingly;  "I  do  wish  to  speak  of 
something,  yet  hardly  know  where  to  begin." 

"  I  know  it  already,"  I  broke  in  quickly ;  looking,  as  I 
said  it,  deep  down  in  the  well,  that  I  might  not  meet  his  look 
of  embarrassment.  When  I  looked  up — amazed  at  his  long 
silence — he  was  scanning  my  face,  searchingly. 

"  Then  you  do  know  my  communication.  Have  you  the 
gift  of  second-  sight  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Why  how  can  T  help  it  ?"  I  said,  irritated  at  being  forced  to 
explain  so  very  palpable  a  fact.  "  It  is  as  plain  as  day.  You 
wish  me  to  take  good  care  of  your — your  treasure,  until  you 
12 


266  KUBINA. 

return  to  claim  it,"  I  subjoined,  quite  in  the  approved  romantic 
Btyle,  at  which  he  laughed.  "It  is  not  in  my  line,  Mr. 
Hume.  I  have  no  influence  there  now  ;  you  have  driven  me 
away." 

"  But  I  deny  that  I  have  driven  you  from  any  place.  That 
would  be,  indeed,  ungallant."  His  irony  angered  and  per- 
plexed me.  While  I  meditated  a  fitting  response,  he  resumed, 
with  a  light  laugh,  still  more  galling :  "  Then  it  is  a  treasure, 
Miss  Ruby?" 

"  Don't  you  consider  it  such  ?"  I  asked,  indignantly. 

"Undoubtedly,"  was  the  cool  response. 

"You  don't  deserve  it,"  I  cried,  angrily — feeling  the  im- 
potency  of  the  retort. 

"  No !  I  dare  say.  Will  you  condescend  to  explain  its 
nature  ?  Is  it  gold,  or  silver,  or  land  ?  Is  it  invested  in  un- 
salable flesh?  or,  worse  than  all,  is  it  buried  treasure?" 

"  Not  the  latter  yet"  I  said  seriously.  "  It  rests,  however, 
with  you." 

'*  Romantic,  decidedly,"  he  laughed.  "  Whose  life  hangs 
on  the  uncertain  thread  of  ray  going  or  coming  ?  Yours  ?" 
His  tone  was  too  sneering  to  be  longer  borne. 

"  Heaven  forbid !"  I  cried  hotly.  "  When  I  throw  my  life 
away  for  a  man's  selfish  thought,  it  will  be  for  one  I  think 
worthy  of  the  sacrifice." 

He  frowned ;  then  answered,  with  startling  impudence : 
"  I  really  don't  see  why  you  should  be  piqued,  Ruby,  at  my 
efforts  to  amuse  a  sick  girl." 

"  I  scorn  the  imputation,  Mr.  Hume.  What  is  it  to  me, 
in  any  way  ?"  I  had  lost  all  patience  with  the  man.  "  Oh !" 
thought  I,  "  for  prompt  aid  to  deal  his  egregious  vanity  a 
death-shock."  Yet,  the  more  I  helplessly  entreated,  the  more 
the  requisite  words  receded  from  straining  thought;  and 


EUBINA.  267 

there  he  stood,  self-poised  on  his  cumbersome  conceit, 
serenely  smiling  down  on  me. 

"  You  and  I  will  understand  each  other  better  some  day, 
Miss  Ruby,"  was  his  hopeful  prophecy. 

"  Ah  !  I  fancied  I  had  attained  to  sufficient  knowledge  of 
that  theme,  now,"  was  my  curt,  pointed  answer. 

His  placidity  was  at  last  troubled.  The  current  of  truth 
did  not  mix  well  with  the  oily  waters  of  conceit.  His 
startled  eye  caught  mine,  then  shrank  from  its  steady  gaze. 
"  This  is  not  the  reception  I  expected  for  my  communication, 
Miss  Ruby,"  he  faltered. 

"  I  presume  not !  Is  it  your  first  disappointment,  sir  ?" 
Very  crustily  I  said  this.  I  relished  exceedingly  this  brief 
opportunity  of  paying  off  old  scores — only  it  was  too  brief. 

"  I  wonder  now,"  he  went  on,  "  if  you  really  feel  this. 

I  thought  you  liked  me  a  little.  A  little,  Ruby ."  He 

paused,  eagerly.  I  was  silent.  He  resumed,  smoothly : 
"  What  I  am  to  your  cousin,  need  make  no  difference  to 
you  •  you  are  separated  in  my  regard  as  far  as  the  poles." 

"  There  is  no  need  of  asserting  this,  sir.  The  fact  is 
patent  to  all.  I  have  no  desire  to  dispute  it,  or  to  will  it 
otherwise.  Now  that  you  have  at  last  successfully  accom- 
plished your  mission — self-imposed,  sir;  she  never  acceded 
to  it — perhaps  you  will  say  good-by  in  a  decently  civil  tone, 
and  allow  me  to  go  in.  You  see,"  glancing  at  the  window, 
"that  Demis  is  watching  us.  What  will  she  think  of 
your  conduct  ?" 

"It  is  nothing  to  her,"  he  said  gruffly.  "  You  seem  de- 
termined not  to  understand  me.  I  have  waited  so  long  for 
— nothing,  it  seems." 

"  It  seems  so,  truly,  Mr.  Hume." 

"  The  fault  is  undoubtedly  my  own  ?" 


268  KUBINA. 

"  Very  possibly,  Mr.  Hume." 

"  Mister,  Mister !"  he  echoed,  angrily.  "  Why  cannot  you 
call  me  Elliot,  as  Demis  does}  Will  it  blister  your  mouth 
to  be  friendly  ?  Even  a  prude  may  stoop  thus  far." 

I  passed  over  the  scornful  close,  and  answered  his  first 
questipn. 

"  For  that  very  reason,  sir.  I  have  regard  for  her  rights ; 
but  it  seems  you  have  none."  He  made  a  movement  of  sur- 
prise. I  went  on.  "  Elliot  Hume,  I  heard  you  tell  my  cou- 
sin that  you  loved  her.  Your  every  glance,  word,  tone,  has 
long  repeated  the  assertion." 

I  expected  him  to  look  confused,  to  falter,  as  I  hurled  on 
him  this  home-truth,  with  a  steady  gaze.  But  I  was  mis- 
taken. He  grew  bland,  gentle,  even  tender ;  the  waiting 
sneer  melted  into  a  smile.  I  saw  his  motive  clearly.  It  was 
to  wrench  jealousy  from  its  supposed  stronghold.  For  what 
purpose,  I  knew  not.  I  was  fortified. 

"  And  if  you  did,  it  was  only  to  appease  the  pang  of  part- 
ing. If  it  gives  her  peace,  what  matter  ?  And  a  transient 
peace  is  better  than  none  at  all.  I  pity,  and  seek  thereby  to 
soothe  her.  It  is  but  little,  at  the  best.  You  know,  in  your 
inmost  heart,  that  you  alone  possess  my  every  thought ;  that 
all  other  affection  is  but  chaff  to  fill  an  idle  hour ;  the  pure 
grain  waves  and  ripens  there  for  you.  Be  noble,  be  gener- 
ous, then,  Ruby,  in  this  knowledge  of  your  power.  Grudge 
not  the  paltry  civilities  of  a  few  fleeting  hours  ;  the  soothing 
cares  bestowed  on  another.  Trust  me  ;  trust  me  utterly.  I 
swear  you  shall  never  repent  it !" 

I  know  not  which  emotion  predominated,  as  he  serenely 
uttered  this  ;  aversion  to  his  sophistry,  or  disgust  at  his  hy- 
pocrisy. And  at  the  close — made  eloquent  by  lip,  and  eye, 
and  gesture — at  the  appeal  to  my  generous  tolerance  thereof, 


RUBINA.  269 

my  contempt  for  the  mean,  weak  soul  before  me  made  me 
grind  my  teeth  in  rage.  I  eyed  him  scornfully — mute  with 
passion.  Words  eddied  up  to  my  lips,  and  died  in  the  strug- 
gle for  expression.  "  No  wonder  Eve  fell,"  thought  I.  "  The 
serpent  is  always  fair.  His  flattery  is  sweet  as  honey ;  his 
promises  threaded  with  light."  Sinuous  his  form,  as  he 
leaned  gracefully  over  the  curb.  Magnetic  his  eye ;  its  gaze 
formed  for  charming.  Yes,  the  analogy  was  striking.  I  half 
expected  to  hear  the  quick,  sharp  rattle,  or  the  dreamy  charm 
lulling  the  senses  to  sleep,  ere  the  fangs  sent  forth  venom. 
But  the  venom  had  been  sent  prematurely.  And  the  insult 
was  too  apparent.  Pride,  will,  gave  no  signs  of  succumbing. 
Defiant,  I  met  his  gaze,  and  answered  it.  His  eyes  lowered, 
baffled  ;  their  eager  scrutiny  changed  to  doubt,  llis  mouth 
contracted  into  a  sneer — one  not  a  stranger.  It  did  not  move 
me.  Ire  had  been  aroused  ere  the  charm  was  complete.  It 
was  not  to  be  easily  lulled  into  forgetfulness. 

I  turned  to  go.  "I  will  stay  no  longer,"  I  said,  coldly. 
"  And  so  good-day  and  good-by,  Mr.  Hume ;  and  if  con- 
sistent with  your  past  and  future  intentions,  I  sincerely  hope 
that  your  journey  maybe  a  peaceful  one." 

"  It  will  be,"  he  said,  as  he  extended  his  hand  :  mine  met 
it  half-way.  He  looked  so  sorrowful,  that  an  apology  rose 
to  my  lips — quickly  suppressed. 

I  only  said  to  him,  "  We  need  have  no  differences  that 
I  know  of,  Mr.  Hume :  I  can  freely  forgive  your  mistaken 
notions." 

Well !  he  was  gone ;  and  I  was  scarcely  glad.  Life,  after  all, 
is  too  sweet  and  brief  for  bickering.  I  had  longed  for  his 
departure,  as  the  advent  of  deep  peace.  Instead,  came  the 
silence  of  desolation.  Then  selfishness  for  the  moment  stood 
aside,  as  pride  sternly  accused  it  of  grieving  for  a  phantom ; 


270  RUBINA. 

that  in  which  it  could  never  have  part  or  parcel.  Enforced 
comfort  is  but  sorry  comfort  after  all. 

I  thought  of  Demis  with  forgiving  pity.  I  longed  to  bind 
up  the  broken  heart,  sorrowing  for  a  needful  absence.  But 
then  the  past  crowded  up  into  full  vision,  overflowing  with 
hateful  incidents,  bristling  with  countless  stings.  I  was  no 
worm  to  kiss  the  foot  that  crushed  me;  that  handed  me 
as  my  portion,  premeditated  contempt.  Clear  as  the  water 
into  which  I  gazed,  came  the  sequel  to  my  mind ;  I  was  in 
no  mood  for  listening  to  it  under  the  sound  of  those  retreat- 
ing footsteps,  knelling  away  into  the  distance  with  such  fear- 
ful, certain  precision. 

There  are  some  things  incapable  of  analysis.  Sweet  and 
bitter  in  our  daily  cup  will  mingle  so  persistently.  I  leaned 
over  the  well-curb  and  burst  into  bitter  tears,  regardless  now 
of  prying  eyes,  or  voices  of  scornful,  compassionate  inquiry. 
Yet  I  was  not  in  the  least  sorrowful.  They  were  merely  tears 
of  bitter  indignation.  So  spake  Reason  promptly,  when  I 
questioned  her.  So  I  repeatedly  assured  myself,  as  I  leisurely 
returned  to  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

IT  is  June ;  fervid  and  glowing  with  flowery  sweetness. 
Sunset  gilds  the  western  skies;  scarlet  and  golden  sheets 
cover  its  broad  surface,  and  tinge  the  mountain  tops  with 
beads  of  fire.  The  blue  of  mid-heaven  grows  deeper,  darker  > 
dove-like  clouds  sail  airily  over  it.  A  few  stars  faintly  open 
their  twinkling  lids,  as  if  to  sleepily  watch  this  grand  approach 
of  a  world's  profound  slumber.  One,  more  adventurous  than 
the  rest,  and  glowing  like  an  eye  of  flame,  already  dips  cau- 


RUBINA.  271 

tiously  over  Greybaul's  summit,  and  sinks  slowly  into  its  gor- 
geous bed. 

I  sit  in  the  farm-house  looking  at  this  calm  loveliness  of  a 
dying  day,  whose  hectic  flush  is  gradually  paling.  Deborah, 
with  a  pail  and  dipper  in  either  hand,  stoops  over  the  garden 
beds,  sprinkling  with  cool  moisture  the  drooping  plants.  On 
the  upland  beyond,  stalks  the  burly  form  of  Uncle  Joel,  sur- 
veying, with  true  farmer-like  satisfaction,  his  promising  acres. 
He  leans  occasionally  on  his  trusty  stall",  not  disdainful  of  this 
friendly  supporter  of  age  and  weakness.  Aunt  Rhoda  placidly 
knits  by  the  open  window.  The  roll  of  "  blue  mixed"  per- 
ceptibly lessens  with  every  round  of  the  busy  fingers,  and  in 
its  stead  grows  the  long-seamed  sock  for  masculine  wear. 
"Milkin'  over,"  she  can  afford  a  clean  apron,  a  cap,  and  an 
interval  of  repose.  The  family  Bible  lies  in  her  lap— -opened 
at  St.  Paul's  Epistles ;  and  as  the  words  of  the  benignant 
Apostle  fasten  her  attention,  her  lips  move  in  a  pleasant  mur- 
mur. Demis  comes  down  from  her  chamber,  arrayed  in 
white  muslin  dotted  with  tiny  pink  sprigs,  looking  quite  too 
ethereal  for  the  approved  model  for  a  country  lassie ;  the 
texture  scarcely  whiter  than  her  cheeks,  from  which  the 
plump  contour  and  brilliant  hue  have  departed,  with  sleep- 
less nights  and  aching  days. 

"Anny,  Anny,"  calls  Debby  from  the  garden, "come  in, 
now  ;  that's  a  lady ;  and  be  fixed  up  a  speck.  I  declare  for't 
you  look  like  a  fright !  Nobody  wouldn't  guess  who  'twas, 
if  they'd  ever  seen  you  afore,  and  knowed  you  could  look 
like  folks.  Do  see  that  are  child's  face  !"  she  indignantly 
added,  pushing  Annah  before  her  into  the  house.  "  I  want  you 
all  to  take  a  realizin'  sense  on't.  Red's  a  piney  !  What  can 
possess  her  to  race  round  in  that  are  medder  30,  in  sech  hot 
weather,  is  mor'n  I  can  tell.  For  my  part,  if  1  hadn't  nothin' 


272  RUBDTA. 

else  to  see  to,  I'd  git'n  the  shade  an'  try  to  keep  cool."  She 
lifted  a  corner  of  her  dark  bine  apron  and  polished  off  her 
forehead;  then  diverged  downward,  passing  lightly  over  her 
cheeks,  and  vigorously  wiped  her  mouth. 

Aunt  Rhoda  looked  up  from  her  book:  "There'll  be  music 
'nough  if  Har'ner's  gal  is  sech  a  tomboy  as  that  one.  It 
would  keep  two  men  in  hard  work  to  do  nothin'  but  jest 
keep  track  on  'em." 

Debby  dropped  her  apron.  "  No  fear  o'  that,"  she  retorted. 
"  I'll  warrant  ye,  she's  a  proper  well-behaved  gal ;  sober  as  a 
deacon.  She  hain't  no  medder  to  run  in,  you  know.  After 
all,  'taint  nat'ral  to  see  an  old  head  on  young  shoulders  :  I 
ruther  see  a  romp,  of  the  two.  I  hear  wheels,  as  true  as  fate. 
They're  comin' !'  What  a  Bristo'  load !"  and  she  peered  out 
curiously. 

Debby  was  right.  "Har'ner's  gal"  was  very  "proper;" 
exceedingly  womanly  in  speech  and  manner,  very  fashionably 
attired,  with  dainty  feet  encased  in  silk-clocked  stockings, 
and  red  morocco  shoes.  A  broad-brimmed  leghorn  flat,  with 
a  wreath  of  pale  pink  roses,  crowned  her  yellow  curls.  One 
arm  awkwardly  managed  an  enormous  doll — manufactured 
from  white  cotton,  with  very  wide  open  eyes  and  the 
broadest  of  snub  noses — its  figure  gayly  bedizened  in  crumpled 
blue  tarletan.  The  other  hand  extended  a  tiny  parasol, 
opened  to  display  its  full-frilled  border  or  to  ward  off  the 
baleful  effects  of  the  rising  moon.  The  little  creature  came 
swinging  into  the  house,  imitating  to  perfection  her  mother's 
gait,  and,  frigidly  responding  to  her  aunt's  offered  salute — as 
an  unpleasant  matter  of  necessity — demurely  slipped  into  a  seat. 

My  aunt  Lucas  was  a  portly  lady ;  florid  and  freckled, 
with  the  lightest  of  brown  hair,  the  thickest  of  thick  lips — 
purely  Anglo-Saxon — and  very  faint  and  far  away  gray  eyes : 


RUBINA.  273 

merely  a  glimmer,  and  void  of  expression.  There  was  an  air 
of  would-be  condescension  in  all  she  said  and  did,  intended  for 
a  mark  of  exclusiveness,  and  to  betoken  her  intimacy  with 
gentle  breeding.  It  was  too  ludicrous  to  be  offensive,  as  also 
was  her  perpetual  reference  to  her  "genteel  neighbors" — 
with  each  name,  a  prefix  of  their  rank,  wealth,  and  notice  of 
her  own  worthy  self.  She  was  possessed,  also,  of  the  impe- 
rious manners  of  her  sisters,  and  seemed  vastly  gratified  to 
issue  orders  by  the  score ;  to  see  people  fly  in  all  directions 
to  execute  them.  Her  husband  must  have  suited  her  to  a 
charm.  He  did  her  bidding  with  a  meekness  truly  Mosaical. 
She  evidently  was  the  orbit  round  which  he  revolved,  no 
unwilling  satellite.  Being  of  fragile  dimensions,  it  was  only 
natural  to  plant  himself  under  the  shadow  of  her  wing,  look 
up,  and  be  protected,  in  return  for  his  devotion.  Conse- 
quently, when  she  told  him,  in  the  fewest  possible  words,  to 
"  go  and  look  after  our  baggage,"  he  obediently  turned  and 
patted  away. 

"  Law !  Har'ner,  Joel'll  fetch  it  in,  barn-bye,"  said  Aunt 
Bhoda,  assiduously  volunteering  to  untie  a  troublesome  knot. 

"  Well !  Mr.  Lucas  is  used  to  it.  He  knows  right  where 
to  take  hold.  I  tell  him  when  he's  out  of  business  for  him- 
self he  must  expect  to  make  himself  useful  to  home.  Are 
these  Car'line's  girls  ?"  she  inquired,  when  fairly  divested  of 
her  many  wraps. 

"  Why,  I  had  an  idea  they  were  small,"  she  said,  in  sur- 
prise, attentively  scanning  us.  "  Well,  three  or  four  years 
does  make  a  difference,  'specially  at  a  certain  age.  I  tell 
Milly  sometimes,  she  grows  so  fast  I  shall  have  to  put  a  stun 
on  her  head" — at  which  harmless  threat  Miss  Milly  simpered, 
and  looked  lovingly  down  on  her  dolt — "  there's  no  use  a 
pulling  out  tacks.  I'd  rather  make  than  mend,  any  day." 
12* 


274  RUBINA. 

"It's  seven  year  and  over  sence  they  come  here,"  cor- 
rected her  sister.  ,  • 

"  Why,  it  can't  be  possible !"  was  the  answer.  She  ap- 
pealed to  me ;  but  I  confirmed  the  statement.  "  Well,  time 
does  slip  away  faster  than  we're  aware  of,  don't  it?  I  tell 
Mr.  Lucas  every  year  grows  shorter  and  shorter;  I  don't 
know  what  they'll  get  to  be  finally.  It  used  to  seem  an  age 
from  one  Christmas  to  another,  and  from  one  Independence 
Day  to  another ;  now  it  don't  seem  no  time  at  all.  I  meant  to 
have  visited  you  before,  Rhoda,"  she  added,  apologetically, 
"but  Mr.  Lucas's  business  is  so  confining,  I  don't  like  to  go 
without  him ;  none  of  the  first  ladies  do.  But  you  might 
have  visited  me,  I  should  have  thought."  Her  sister  might 
have  retorted,  with  perfect  truthfulness,  that  she  never  was 
asked,  bat  she  observed  a  prudent  silence.  "  We've  moved 
sencc  you  was  there,"  resumed  Aunt  Hannah ;  "  we  found  the 
house  getting  quite  too  small  for  comfort." 

"  Yis,  "'twas  ruther  contracted,  I  thought,"  politely  acceded 
Aunt  Rhoda. 

Her  sister  looked  displeased.  "  I  don't  know  as  it  was  so 
very  small,"  she  said,  tossing  her  head.  "  The  size  is  no 
sign  of  gentility.  Many  of  our  first  people  live  in  smaller 
ones  than  that,  let  me  tell  you;  and  it's  in  an  excellent  neigh- 
borhood. All  the  Peterses  and  McClouds live  right  round  there. 
I  don't  know  where  you'd  find  grander  folks,  /  don't." 

"  Oh  !"  hastily  interpolated  her  sister,  "  I  didn't  speak  on 
that  account.  It  looked  well,  but  'twas  wood,  you  know,  and 
I  was  afeard  'twould  catch  afire  quicker'n  the  rest.  I  noticed 
them  was  all  brick  or  stun,  with  blinds  on  'em  too." 

"  Well,  yes  ;  that  was  one  reason  we  moved.  We  never 
had  blinds  put  on;  'twan't  wuth  while,  as  we  didn't  expect  to 
live  there." 


RUBINA.  275 

While  the  sisters  thus  exchanged  confidences,  Millicent  had 
been  displaying  her  graces  for  Annah's  wondering  eyes.  Her 
stately  parent's  glance  suddenly  fell  upon  her,  and  thus  re- 
minded of  a  neglected  propriety,  she  requested  her  to  "  go 
and  shake  hands."  Very  nimbly  was  this  done,  very  coolly 
also,  and  she  returned  to  her  seat.  Annah  was  essentially  of 
a  social  disposition,  and,  after  surveying  with  a  puzzled  ex- 
pression the  unpromising  field,  she  drew  near  her  cousin 
and  tried  to  be  friendly,  opening  the  meeting  with  an  in- 
quiry as  to  her  age. 

"  Seven,"  was  the  curt  reply. 

"  So  am  I.     Can  you  fish  ?"  cried  Annah. 

"  No  !  it's  dirty  work,  ma  says." 

"  Yes,  but  who  cares  ?  Dw'ght  makes  the  cutest  fish-poles 
out  of  willow.  I  can  catch  heaps  of  shiners,  but  the  trout  are 
shy."  Miss  Milly  looked  uninterested  as  Annah  continued, 
and  scornfully  declined  an  invitation  to  "  go  to-morrow." 

Then  Annah  tried  school,  and  elicited  some  pithy  answers. 
Evidently  the  little  maid  intended  to  waste  no  words  upon 
her  good-natured  inquiries.  "  My  pa's  rich,"  said  the  dainty 
maiden,  drawing  her  slight  form  up  proudly,  and  looking 
hard  at  her  discomfited  cousin,  who  presently  rallied  to  affirm 
stoutly :  "  So  is  Uncle  Joel." 

"  But  he  is  a  farmer,"  replied  Miss  Milly. 

"  Well,  what  is  your  father  ?"  inquired  Annah. 

"  He's  a-a-well,  he  makes  money,"  she  said,  triumphantly. 

"  That  must  be  nice,"  assented  Annah.  "  I'm  afraid  Uncle 
Joel  don't.  I  never  saw  him  do  it." 

"  Pa  goes  away  in  the  morning  without  a  cent,  and  comes 
home  with  a  big  roll ;  oh !  as  big  as  my  fist" — holding  up  a 
small  enough  affair.  "  Our  house  is  beau'ful.  I  thought  Uncle 
was  poor ;  the  furniture  is,"  she  said,  disdainfully. 


276  RUBINA. 

Then  the  little  heiress  asked,  "  Who  made  your  dress  ?  It's 
as  old-fashioned  as  the  hills  !" 

"  Cousin  Demis  made  it.  It's  pretty  too ;  and  Demis  is 
beautiful." 

"  Yes,"  observed  Milly,  with  admirable  coolness,  "  she  is 
prettier  than  your  sister.  Ruby  is  a  real  homely  old  poke. 
I  wouldn't  own  her,"  and  she  giggled  mischievously.  Annah 
frowned  and  left  her.  That  night  she  declared  her  belief 
that  they  should  pot  agree  at  all. 

"  Law  !"  said  Debby,  "  don't  you  know  what  she's  up  to  ? 
She's  only  showing  off  her  great  gifts,  that's  all.  T  guess 
'pon  a  pinch,  you  can  get  on  your  high-heeled  shoes  as  well 
as  she.  An'  she'll  haul  in  her  horns  'fore  she's  many  months 
older." 

Aunt  Lucas  seemed  to  think  that  her  country  relatives  had  no 
susceptibility  of  fatigue.  She  embodied  in  her  ample  pro 
portions  a  compound  of  indolence  and  selfish  exaction  which 
soon  grew  oppressive.  She  managed  to  loll  aimlessly  around  a 
portion  of  the  domains  nearly  every  fine  day,  coming  in  after- 
wards with  the  declaration :  "  I'm  tired  to  death ;"  and,  throw- 
ing herself  on  the  lounge  for  a  nap,  she  made  no  scruple  of 
handing  me  a  fan,  with  the  request  to  "  keep  the  flies  off,  as 
they  most  eat  me  up."  She  ordered  things  sent  up  to  her 
room,  as  though  a  corps  of  well-trained  servants  were  held  in 
kitchen  reserve  for  her  especial  use.  She  evidently  thought 
our  muscles  strung  with  iron,  for  she  left  huge  piles  of  soiled 
linen,  drifting  into  corners  of  her  room,  to  be  by  us  cleansed 
and  ironed  for  future  use.  She  left  her  bed  unmade  and 
room  unswept ;  if  these  offices  were  not  performed  for  her 
at — in  her  estimation — a  reasonably  early  hour,  she  assumed 
an  injured  look,  very  hard  to  be  borne  by  such  hospitable 
persons  as  Uncle  Joel  and  his  wife. 


RUBINA.  277 

She  thoughtlessly  kept  meals  waiting  her  pleasure,  regard- 
less of  the  fact  that,  in  a  fanner's  household,  a  greater  neces- 
sity for  punctuality  exists  than  in  a  luxurious  city  home ; 
regularly,  just  at  the  critical  point  of  serving  the  dinner  hot, 
after  the  chairs  were  placed  and  the  host  standing  impatient, 
she  would  be  missing ;  regularly  some  one  would  be  sent  in 
search,  only  to  find  her  comfortably  disposed  for  sleep.  "  I 
require  a  great  deal,"  she  was  accustomed  to  observe,  sleepily 
lifting  her  night-capped  head.  "  Is  it  possible?  How  early 
you  dine  in  the  country !  Well,  I  will  try  to  come  in  a  few 
minutes." 

This  meant  an  hour  or  so.  For  several  days  we  politely 
waited,  and  in  accordance  with  a  hint  from  her  husband,  that 
the  practice  was  a  usual  one,  and  that  her  dinner  sent  up 
was  a  pleasure  to  her — I  volunteered  to  do  the  same  ;  but 
finding  it  likely  to  become  au  established  ordinance,  Aunt 
Rhoda  rebelled,  and  one  day  coolly  served  the  meal  as  usual. 
She  made  her  appearance  only  to.  find  a  cold  repast,  which 
she  disdainfully  pushed  aside,  declaring  a  preference  for  "  a 
plain  diet  of  cream  toast,  poached  eggs,  and  tea."  She  mor- 
tally offended  Debby  by  calling  her  one  day  "  a  servant," 
and  wondering  how  we  allowed  her  a  place  at  the  .family 
table. 

"  To  think,"  muttered  Debby,  angrily,  "  how  she  was 
brought  up  :  she  used  to  scrub  it  as  hard's  eve*  Mis'  Martin 
does.  She  allers  lived  on  a  farm.  I've  been  by  the  old  Lee 
place  many's  the  time,  up  here  in  '  The  Notch  !'  She  used  to 
know  how  to  make  butter  and  cheese,  and  to  spin  flax  and  tow, 
and  all  that  are,  if  she  has  forgot  it  all  now.  Didn't  dress 
very  fine  nuther,  in  them  days  ;  wore  linsey-woolsey  gowns 
and  check  aprons,  and  went  barefoot  allers  in  hot  weather. 
Oh !  I  reckon  I  can  tell  her  a  few.  I  declare  for't  I  won't 


278  RUBINA. 

put  up  with  sech  abom'nible  airs.  If  'twan't  for  John 
Lucas — he's  a  likely  man — I'd  pack  her  off,  bag  an'  bag- 
gage. I  know  what  I  will  do.  I'll  clear  out.  Servant !" 
quoth  she,  passionately.  "  I  ain't  a  servant ;  never  was  one, 
an'  what's  more  to  the  pint  never  will  be,  for  Har'ner  Lucas. 
She'd  better  go  down  South,  if  she  wants  slaves  at  her  heels 
continually.  She'd  make  a  good  hand  to  maul  'em  'round, 
only  I'd  pity  the  poor  critturs  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart." 
Having  thus  vented  her  opinions,  with  no  interruption,  she 
grew  calmer,  and  finally  quite  condescending  "  I  can't,  for 
the  life  o'  me,  see  what's  got  into  the  woman,"  she  said,  con- 
temptuously. "  Car'line,  now,  didn't  seem  t6  feel  no  bigger 
arter  she  put  up  at  the  city,  and  I've  heard  tell  as  how  York 
was  a  good  sight  bigger'n  where  Har'ner  lives." 

"  Folks  is  diff'rent,  I  s'pose,"  said  Uncle  Joel,  who  came 
in  during  her  harangue.  "  Don't  you  mind  nothin'  she 
says,  Deborah !  It's  all  in  a  lifetime,  you  know  !" 

"  Well  now,  Mr.  Martin,  if  'twan't  for  Demis  there,  I  would 
go  'way  an'  stay  a  spell,  to  make  my  word  good,  you  know ; 
as  true  as  I  live,  I  would.  But  that  are  child  is  dreadful 
poorly ;  don't  know  as  none  the  rest  on  you  see  it,  but  I'll 
tell  you  one  thing,  and  that  is,  that  onless  somethings  done, 
and  mighty  quick,  too,  she  won't  stay  here  long." 

Poor  Uncle  Joel  gave  a  start,  put  on  his  spectacles  and 
went  into  the  keeping-room.  He  came  out  in  a  few  minutes, 
just  as  Aunt  Rhoda  came  bustling  in  from  her  cheeses. 

"  Come  now,  Joel ;  them  cheeses  have  got  to  be  turned, 
short  order.  They're  gittin's  mildewy  as  the  mischief,  and 
the  orter  has  all  gin  out ;  I  squeezed  the  last  out  the  pot 
yisterday.  Now  don't  forgit  to-night  to  git  some  more, — 
law!  Mr.  Martin,  have  you  seen  a  ghost?  You're  as  white 
's  a  sheet."  He  prudently  closed  the  door  before  replying. 


RUBINA.  279 

"  Why,  Rhody,  why  on  airth  have'nt  you  spoke  'bout  it 
'afore  ?  She  is  changed."  (Seeming  to  forget  that  she  had 
not  spoken  of  it  now.) 

"Spoke 'bout  the  orter?  I  did,"  she  retorted  sharply, 
"  last  night ;  but  you  an'  John  Lucas  was  so  took  up  with 
them  city  papers,  I  s'pose  it  went  in  to  one  ear  and  out  at 
t'other." 

"  No,  no,"  he  whispered.  "  Speak  lower,  mother ;  do.  I 
'ain't  deaf.  I  tell  you  it's  our  Demis,  I  meant.  She  looks 
as  thin's  a  rail,  an'  dreadful  weakly.  I  guess  I'll  step  up  to 
Dr.  Torry's,  an'  fcsk  him  to  call  in,  and  see  what  ails  her — 
leastways,  git  a  strength'nin'  mixture." 

"  I  guess  you'll  do  no  such  thing,  Joel  Martin,"  said  Aunt 
Rhoda,  quickly.  "  You'll  make  her  think  she  is  sick,  and 
then  there'll  be  a  nice  fuss.  B'tween  you  an'  Deborah  you'd 
conjur'  up  an  'arthqua^e,  I  do  believe.  I  can  tell  I  guess, 
as  well  as  the  next  one,  when  anybody's  sick  and  needs  the 
doctor.  I'll  steep  up  some  motherwort,  and  she  must  go  to 
takin'  that  along ;  it'll  give  her  an  appetite,  and  she'll  soon 
pick  up  ag'in.  She  never  did  flesh  up  much  in  the  summer 
season." 

"'  She  never  lost  any  afore  though,"  muttered  Debby,  from 
the  closet,  "but  none  so  blind  as  them  that  won't  see."- 

Uncle  Joel  went  off  to  turn  the  cheeses,  feeling  hopefully 
disposed  towards  the  genial  virtues  of  the  basin  of  "  mother- 
wort,"  which  his  wife  put  at  once  on  the  stove  to  steep. 


280  EUBINA. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE  scorching  midsummer  passed.  Deborah  was  dis- 
abled for  any  service.  One  morning,  descending  the  stairs 
ere  dawn  to  go  about  the  washing,  she  missed  one  step 
and  was  violently  precipitated  to  the  floor.  The  concussion 
of  such  a  body — Debby  was  far  from  being  a  fairy  in  size — 
as  well  as  her  unearthly  groans,  brought  the  whole  family  to 
the  spot,  with  dim  notions  of  robbers  and  murderers — 
a  frightened,  though  not  a  very  valiant  army.  When  as- 
sisted to  rise,  amid  sounds  of  suppressed  laughter  at  her 
horror-stricken  face,  they  quickly  ceased,  for  one  leg  was 
discovered  to  be  broken. 

"  Wall,"  said  she,  amid  her  sobs,  after  it  had  been  properly 
set  by  the  doctor,  and  herself  fairly  placed  in  bed;  "  it's 
an  old  sayin', '  much  haste  makes  waste.'  You  see,  I  thought, 
as  we'd  got  sech  a  powerful  wash  to-day,  I'd  jess  git  up  still, 
afore  daylight  and  tackle  it.  One  hour  in  the  mornin's 
wuth  two  at  night,  I  think ;  but  I  guess  I  missed  it.  'Twas 
so  dark  I  couldn't  see  my  hand  afore  me.  I  went  by  the 
sense  o'  feelin'  till  I  fell  myself — she  concluded,  laughingly. 

This  misfortune  added  seriously  to  our  cares.  The  tor- 
tured limb  swelled  painfully,  the  severed  bone  being  badly 
splintered ;  and  it  required  almost  constant  bathing,  for  which 
we  could  illy  spare  time  from  pressing  household  duties.  Poor 
Debby  writhed  mentally,  at  her  inability  to  perform  the  slight- 
est service. 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  should  never  grumble  ag'in  at  havin'  so  much 
to  do,  if  I  only  git  round  ag'in,"  she  would  say  repeatedly, 
and  end  with  a  heavy  sigh.  Then,  begging  piteously  for 


RUBINA.  281 

something  to  do,  she  would  bribe  Annah  to  bring  her  the 
bowl  of  potatoes  to  peel.  It  was  worse  than  useless.  She 
worried  herself,  into  a  fever,  and  for  days  raved  in  delirium. 
I  ventured  one  day  to  ask  Aunt  Hannah,  who  kept  aloof 
from  the  sick-room,  for  some  trifling  attendance  there.  She 
threw  down  her  novel,  impatiently  rose  and  followed  me  in. 
As  I  carefully  bared  the  limb,  and  pointed  to  the  basin  of 
tepid  water,  such  an  ugly  grimace  crossed  her  face  as  I 
hope  never  again  to  witness.  She  picked  up  the  sponge 
with  one  finger  and  thumb,  as  if  she  feared  in  its  cells  lurked 
the  direst  contamination. 

"  It  isn't  a  very  pleasant  job,  Miss,  is  it  ?"  she  said,  with 
intense  disgust. 

I  immediately  signed  her  to  leave — too  indignant  to  speak. 
She  never  forgave  me,  deeming  the  request  an  insult. 

"  Poor  dear !"  moaned  Deborah  ;  "  I  shall  wear  you  all 
out.  I  ain't  fit  to  live.  Let  me  alone ;  this  old  leg'll  do 
well  enough.  You  was  a  goin'  to  help  Demis,  wan't  you  ? 
She  needs  it." 

"  I  don't  care,  father,"  said  Aunt  Rhoda,  thoughtfully,  the 
next  morning  at  breakfast,  "  if  you  do  step  into  Dr.  Tony's 
as  you  go  to  'the  Intervale,'  and  ask  Comely  ef  she's  a 
mind  to  come  down'n  stay  a  spell,  and  chore  it  a  little.  It'll 
be  a  great  godsend  if  she  will,  tell  her  ;  and  I'll  make  it  all 
even.  *You  see,"  she  added  apologetically  to  her  sister, 
"  Demis  ain't  stout.  She  fainted  clear  away  this  mornin' 
while  breakin'  up  the  curd.  She  can't  stan'  what  she  used 
to.  Debby  says  I've  overworked  her ;  but  I  don'  know  ;  I 
never  meant  to.  I  allers  said  I'd  bring  up  my  girls  to  work, 
and  I  have." 

"  Well,  Ruby  looks  pretty  tough,"  was  her  sister's  some- 
what heartless  answer,  accompanied  by  a  direct  gaze  at 


282  RUBINA. 

myself.  "  Demis  looks  delicut,  to  be  sure ;  but  you  can't 
always  tell  by  the  looks  of  a  toad  how  far  it  can  jump,  you 
know." 

"  For  the  Lord's  sake,"  growled  Debby  from  the  bedroom, 
"  deliver  me  from  sech  a  crittur  as  that !  Ruby's  flesh  and 
blood,  Har'ner  Lucus,  which  is  mor'n  I  can  say  of  you." 

Cornelia  Tony  was  well  pleased  to  come  while  the  "  city 
folks"  were  staying.  It  was  a  rare  chance  to  find  out  about 
the  fashions  and  inspect  their  clothing  to  "  see  if  t'was  felled 
or  only  overcast." 

She  revelled  in  reminiscences  of  others'  shortcomings  in 
this  line. 

"  But  there's  Mis'  Deacon  Sweet.  She  was  fetched  up  in 
a  city — to  be  sure  'twan't  a  city  then,  but  'tis  now,  so  it's  all 
the  same  in  Dutch — says  she  don't  care  how  things  are  made, 
so  they  only  look  well  on  and  hold  together.  Now,  I  allers 
look  at  the  wrong  side ;  if  that's  all  right,  the  rest'll  do." 
She  was  fond  of  calling  Deborah  and  herself  "old  cronies; 
'bout  the  same  age,  and  I  'spose  one  didn't  git  married  'cause 
the  other  didn't.  Misery  likes  company,  you  know" — with  a 
cheerful  laugh — "  not  that  I'm  the  wust  off  of  anybody,  by  any 
means ;  and  I  must  say  I've  never  seen  the  man  yit  I'd  have, 
no  never  !  have  you  Deborah  ?" 

"  Well,"  said  Debby  slowly,  "  I  used  to  think  so  ;  but  I  tell 
you  it's  mighty  nice  to  have  ahum  and  some  one  to  take  care 
o'yon  when  you're  flat  on  your  back  and  can't  lift  a  finger. 
Talkin'  and  doin's  two  different  things.  I  might  a'  had  one, 
though,  as  well  as  anybody,  if  I  hadn't  been  a  fool." 

"  Why,  Debby,"  I  said,  a  little  hurt,  "  haven't  you  got  any 
one  to  take  care  of  you  now  ?" 

"  Oh  yis,  child !  I  don't  mean  that,  but  you  know  jest  how 
'tis.  A  hum  o'  my  own.  Nobody  can't  do  as  they've  a 


KUBINA.  283 

mint  to  in  any  other ;  you  can't  in  a  sister's  house  even.  I  tell 
you,  if  Fse  to  live  my  life  over  ag'in,  I'd  do  different  in  some 
things,  I  promise  yon.  I  don't  want  anybody  to  be  an  old 
maid,  'cause  I  be.  I  wouldn't  be  ag'in ;  and  I  needn't  a  been 
now,  if  I  hadn't  been  a  mind  to ;  but  law  !  I  never  would 
have  any  thing  to  say  t'the  young  men ;  I  wouldn't  go 
nowheres  when  they  asked  me  to,  and  that  ain't  the  way  to 
manage." 

"  Well,  to  be  sure !  I  never  heard  the  beat !"  said  Miss 
Cornelia,  in  amazement.  "  I'm  thankful  I've  got  a  contented 
heart !" 

"  I  am,  too,  if  you  have,"  responded  Debby,  dryly. 

"  Speakin'  o'  chances,"  observed  Miss  Cornelia,  rather 
nettled  at  finding  herself  thus  set  aside,  "  I  guess  there  ain't 
no  Jack  but  what  has  his  Jill.  If  I'se  a  mind  to,  I  guess  I 
could  show  chances  with  anybody." 

Debby  smiled  loftily.  "  Wall,  Comely,  you  mustn't  lay  up 
nothin'  I  say,"  she  said,  in  a  conciliatory  tone.  "  I'm's  as 
spleny  as  all  natur',  and  't  does  seem  to  me  sometimes  as  if  I 
should  fly  off  the  handle." 

The  summer  passed  thus.  October  greeted  us, — a  hale  and 
hearty  sire.  The  cholera  having  scourged  the  city  and 
taken  its  mysterious  departure,  our  guests  also  vanished 
homeward,  leaving  a  faint  invitation  for  a  return  of  the  long 
visit.  Uncle  John  timidly  took  me  aside  one  day,  and  cor- 
dially urged  my  spending  the  winter  there,  saying  Annah 
should  go  to  school  with  Milly.  If  she  would  stay  through 
the  entire  course,  so  much  the  better.  This  came  from  his 
heart  and  touched  me  deeply.  I  accepted  it  for  future 
thought — snugly  bestowing  it  away  in  secret,  that,  when  oc- 
casion required,  it  might  come  forth  for  use.  •  However,  he 
started  quickly  away,  as  his  imperious  spouse  appeared  at 


284  EUBINA. 

the  door  to  order  him  off  on  some  duty — assuming  an  un- 
conscious airr  which  led  me  to  the  truthful  conclusion  that 
this  momentous  offer  was  made  solely  on  his  own  authority, 
and  unknown  to  his  conjugal  mistress.  He  was  probably 
doubtful  if  it  would  meet  her  approbation.  Poor  innocent, 
generous  little  man !  I  was  doubtful,  also,  and  though  his 
dilemma  excited  a  smile, "I  liked  him  too  well  not  to  be  con- 
tent and  glad  to  humor  his  scruples  and  preserve  silence. 

Debby  recovered  sufficiently  to  be  wheeled  to  the  table. 

"  I  declare  for't  this  feels  like  old  times,  to  git  my  hands 
in  dish-water  ag'in,"  she  said,  with  hearty  satisfaction.  "  I 
tell  you,  Ruby,  it's  dreadful  hard  work  layin'  in  bed,  day  in  and 
day  out,  and  others  a  waitin'  on  you.  I  hope  I  shall  get  so's 
I  can  stand  on  my  pegs  afore  long ;  its  onhandy,  settin'  and 
workin',  you  know." 

"  I  miss  Mis'  Lucas  mightily,"  observed  Miss  Cornelia, 
who  had  come  down  for  another  week's  stay — she  resented 
tne  idea  of  "'working  out."  She  "  only  liked  to  obleege  a 
neighbor,  you  know ;  'cause  ev'ry  one  had  ups  and  downs  in 
their  life,  and  wanted  favors.  She  was  willin'  to  lend  a 
helpin'  hand,  for  her  part,  for  she  could'nt  tell  but  she'd 
want  the  same  in  return.  '  Live  and  let  live,'  her  m  otter 
was.  If  folks'd  act  more  on  this  ere  principal,  they  wouldn't 
come  out  o'  the  little  end  o'  the  horn,  as  much  as  they  now 
do!" 

"  It's  a  good  miss,  I  think,"  replied  Debby,  curtly,  at  which 
Miss  Cornelia  indulgently  winked  to  me  to  say  nothing — I 
had  made  no  motion  to  speak — and  condescendingly  changed 
the  subject. 

Mark  came  home  this  month  for  a  week's  visit.  He  was 
shocked  at  the  alteration  in  his  sister,  and,  in  much  agitation, 
demanded  of  me  the  cause.  I  endeavored  to  explain  calmly, 


RUBINA.  285 

but  he  abruptly  silenced  me,  with  "  I'm  going  for  a  doctor. 
It's  strange  my  mother  don't  perceive  the  necessity  of  doing 
something.  It's  not  like  you  either,"  and  he  eyed  me  re- 
proachfully. 

Good  old  Doctor  Torry  came,  looked  serenely  down  on 
his  patient,  felt  the  pulsations  in  her  tiny  wrist,  and  seemed 
a  little  in  doubt.  "  Pult  regular,  breathin'  good,  no  fever," 
he  audibly  meditated.  "  Feel  any  pain  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Derais. 

"  H'm,  hum ;  have  night-sweats  any,  or  cold  chills,  or  fever 
flushes  ?" 

"  No,  sir,"  again  said  Demis,  smiling. 

Doctor  Torry  smiled,  too,  and  looked  at  her  quite  patroniz- 
ingly. 

"  Guess  don't  much  ail  you,  does  there  ?  ain't  playin'  pos- 
sum, are  you,  to  scare  these  good  folks  into  fits?  Some  little 
gals  do  it,  and  seem  to  think  it  rare  fun." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  Demis,  laughing. 

"  That  puts  the  pink  into  your  *  cheeks  a  little,  I  see. 
How's  her  appetite  ?"  he  asked,  turning  to  her  mother. 

"  Not  much  to  speak  of,"  she  placidly  said.  "  Can't 
tempt  it  none." 

"  Ah !  just  so !  Well,  she  won't  crave  any  thing  right  away. 
I  should  recommend  now,"  he  resumed,  slapping  his  knees 
thoughtfully,  "  a  good  stiff  cup  of  yarrow  tea  ;  a  little  man- 
drake would  be  beneficial  too,  which  I  will  leave  you."  He 
opened  his  saddle-bags,  fumbled  awhile,  and  held  up  a  tiny 
vial  to  the  light,  full  of  a  dark  liquid.  "  And  this  you  will 
take  a  teaspoonful  of  every  hour ;  shake  the  bottle  well  be- 
fore using.  I  will  read  up  your  case,  and  call  again,"  he  said, 
preparing  to  leave.  I  made  the  tea ;  she  refused  it,  declar- 
ing it  bitter  and  needless. 


286  RUBINA. 

u  It's  bitter  and  wholesome,"  I  urged,  approaching  the  cup 
to  her  lips. 

"  Perhaps  so ;  but  not  for  heart-ache,"  she  said  pitifully. 
"  Ruby,  will  he '  read  up'  that  name  for  my  disease,  I  wonder  ?' 

"  Dear  Demis,  don't  talk  so."  I  bit  my  lips,  to  keep  in  the 
tears.  "  You  have  no  heart-ache.  That  is  pure  nonsense." 

"  Yes  !  That  is  what  they  call  it,  and  they  laugh  at  peo- 
ple for  having  it.  I  could  tell  no  one  but  you  this,  Ruby. 
You  are  my  best  friend  after  all.  I  know  it  now.  Don't  let 
them  sneer  at  me." 

"  Oh,  Demis,"  I  sobbed,  "  I  was  to  blame  then,  more — 

"There,  there,  stop  crying,  dear;  you  hurt  me;"  and  the 
little  hand  came  patronizingly  down  on  mine,  as  in  the  old 
long  ago. 

"Shake  it  off,  Demis,"  I  urged;  "you  are  so  strong. 
It  is  only  the  weak  who  should  sink  under  it.  You  have  so 
many  to  live  for  who  love  you." 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  sadly.  "  And  I  am  dying  for  one 
who  does  not  care  for  m'e  one  thought.  I  have  been  so 
deceived.  It's  my  fate,  I  suppose,  as  Debby  would  say." 

"  Not  at  all,"  I  said.  "  Mine  was  the  fate  centring  all 
life's  dreary  possibilities.  I  was  to  experience  bitter  dis- 
appointments, and  lonely — perhaps  sinful — hours.  She 
never  predicted  such  a  future  for  you — '  her  bright  darling,' 
she  calls  you  ;  and  Mark  '  his  Gipsy  Queen.'  " 

She  shook  her  head.  "  Better  die  young,  than  live  old, 
soured,  peevish,  and  rebellious.  Don't  look  so  sad,  Ruby. 
I  want  to  die.  I've  had  hours,  when,  if  I  could  have  got  it, 
I  should  have  poisoned  myself,  to  escape  dragging  out  that 
one  weary  day.  To  look  forward  to  years  of  such  days ! 
Oh,  it's  dreadful,"  she  added,  shuddering,  "  this  trying  so 
hard  not  to  think;  not  to  regret ;  not  to  feel." 


EUBINA.  287 

I  turned  away  to  hide  my  tears.  /,  poor  worm,  had  so 
misjudged  her. 

"  I  don't  care  now,  Ruby.  Come  back !  You  must 
hear  me.  It's  such  a  relief  to  talk  it  all  over.  I've 
walked  the  house  for  hours  and  hours,  and  gone  to  the  gar- 
ret when  I  heard  you  coming;  and  down  in  the  cellar  in 
the  cold,  damp  darkness  I  have  lain,  till  I  felt  turned  to 
stone.  And  I  couldn't  die.  I  couldn't  even  take  a  common 
cold.  ,  I've  felt  the  spiders  crawling  over  me,  and  earthworms, 
so  horribly  slimy  and  cold,  and  I  lay  still  and  let  them 

crawl,  to  get  used  to  the  grave-worms,  you  know,  Ruby . 

Don't  turn  your  face  away  ;  I  like  to  look  at  it  now,  but  I've 
almost  hated  the  sight  of  it  this  past  year.  It  seemed,  some 
days,  as  if  I  must  kill  you  when  you  put  your  arms  around 
my  neck  or  kissed  me.  Once,  I  carried  the  carving-knife 
to  bed  with  me,  and  got  up  in  the  night,  and  stood  over 
you  with  it — just  to  see  how  it  would  seem.  I  believe  in 
my  heart  I  was  a  murderer  ;  for  I  got  wild  at  last>  brandishing 
it  over  your  head,  and  I  almost  touched  your  throat  with  the 
sharp  edge.  You  slept  through  it  all,  little  dreaming  how 
wicked  your  dearest  friend  wras.  I  confess  I  wanted  to  try 
it  on  you ;  but  you  smiled  in  your  sleep,  and  drew  Annah's 
head  to  your  bosom,  and  that  broke  the  spell.  I  was  terri- 
bly frightened  to  find  how  near  I  had  been  to  an  awful  deed. 
I  tossed  the  knife  out  of  the  window,  lest  I  should  be  again 
tempted.  Ruby,  the  devil  put  it  into  my  heart;  he  was 
with  me  that  night ;  he  is  with  me  continually,  and  I  shall 
go  to  him  I'm  fearful,  for  I  am  so  wicked." 

"  Hush,  hush  !"  I  whispered.  "  You  are  getting  excited. 
You  dreamed  all  this  you  mean,  my  darling.  Stay  ;  I  re- 
member Dwight's  bringing  in  the  knife  one  morning,  and 
wondering  how  it  came  there  in  the  nasturtium-bed." 


288  RUBINA. 

"  You  perceive  then  it  wasn't  a  dream,"  she  said  quickly. 
"  No ;  I  have  such  wild,  selfish  thoughts.  I  used  to  pray, 
when  a  little  girl,  to  God  to  let  me  die  before  my  friends.  It 
seemed  to  me  I  could  never  see  one  of  them  buried.  Well, 
Ruby  ;  it's  awful,  but  I  have  felt  lately,  as  if  I  could  re- 
joico  to  see  every  one  in  the  house  in  a  coffin  at  the  same 
time  ;  and  I  have  thought  how  nice  it  would  be  to  have  a 
dance  at  the  great  funeral.  I  don't  want  to  have  such  thoughts, 
Ruby  ;  I  try  not  to  let  them  in.  I  commence  thinking  reso- 
lutely of  something  else,  and  before  I  know  it,  there  it  is 
again;  I  am  imagining  it  all  over.  Then  I  say  over  and 
over,  aloud, '  no,  I  don't  mean  it ;  as  true  as  I  live  and  breathe,' 
— just  as  we  used  to,  Ruby,  when  little  girls;  but  the  wild 
things  come  into  my  head  again.  I  wanted  to  tell  you  all 
this,  that  you  may  not  think  me  better  than  I  really  am ; 
and  that  you  may  forgive  me  for  all  my  thoughts  towards 
you,  and  for  brandishing  that  knife  over  you.  Can  you  for- 
give me,  Ruby,  for  that  ?"  she  asked,  wistfully. 

"  Yes !  readily.  That  was  nothing.  You  were  not  quite 
yourself.  But  why  have  you  kept  all  this  so  long?  You 
are  not  afraid  of  me,  are  you  ?" 

"  Oh  no  !  but  I  was  so  miserable,  and  you  were  not.  How 
could  you  understand  me  ?  You  cannot,  Ruby,  unless  you 
ever  feel  as  I  have,  which  God  forbid !  I  know  how  the 
poor  lost  wretches  feel,  flinging  themselves  over  bridges  into 
dark,  cool  waters  below.  Any  thing  quiet  and  cool  they 
seek,  as  I  sought  the  cellar.  I  used  to  fear  it,  mortally,  but 
it  seemed  my  home,  my  place  of  refuge  at  that  dreadful 
time.  Of  course,  I  couldn't  tell  you  this  now,  Ruby,  if  I 
any  longer  felt  so.  I  do  not;  that  is  all  passed  away. 
Don't  cry  for  me.  I  don't  for  myself  any  more.  I  feel 
beyond  tears  or  any  earthly  longing.  Nothing  now  could 


KUBINA.  289 

tempt  me  to  live  for  long  years,  and  endure  this  all  over 
again — for  I  should,  when  health,  and  strength,  and  ambi- 
tious dreams  of  the  future  came  baclc."  She  wearily  closed 
her  eyes  as  if  going  to  sleep,  but  soon  opened  them  to  say  : 
"  August  is  long  since  past ;  the  '  long  vacation'  is  over.  How 
easily  some  forget  their  promises," 

"  He  may  have  other  engagements,"  I  endeavored  to  say 
cheerfully.  "  You  remember,  he  had  received  an  urgent 
invitation  to  go  West  with  a  party  of  college  friends."  She 
shook  her  head. 

"  Can  it  be  that  he  reads  my  secret,  Ruby  ?"  her  face 
crimsoned.  "  He  does ;  and  he  will  never  come  again.  Oh ! 
I  have  seen " 

"  Nothing  worth  telling,"  I  interrupted.  "  Now,  don't  be 
unreasonable.  He  is  not  worthy  to  untie  your  shoe.  Here ; 
drink  this,  and  go  to  sleep." 

"  Why,  bow  hot  you  look,'  my  sister,"  she  said,  with  a 
touch  of  her  old  gayety  ;  and  she  pushed  aside  my  hair,  and 
patted  my  flushed  cheek,  as  I  stooped  over  her. 

"  I  like  this,  Demis.  Go  on.  It  sounds  like  your  old 
self — or  your  young  self,  which  you  will.  It  reminds  me  of 
the  evening  I  came  here.  I  thought  you  the  happiest  being 
in  the  world.  You  are  dearer  now  than  all !" 

"  All  ?"  she  murmured,  incredulously.  "  I  am  generous 
enough  not  to  invade  the  sanctum  filled  by  another." 

"  My  darling,  no  one  fills  it  save  yourself," — she  bright- 
ened— "  be  convinced  and  go  to  sleep ;  you  have  said  enough 
for  once.  Besides,  this  tea  is  cooling ;  this  famous  dish  of 
yarrow,  which,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  will  give  you  strength,  and 
— spite  of  Dr.  Torry's  prediction — '  a  craving  appetite.'  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  with  a  determined  start.     "  The  tea  can 
wait,  while  we  talk  further  of  this  matter." 
13 


290  RUBINA. 

"  To-morrow !"  I  pleaded. 

"  There  are  no  to-morrows  in  heaven,  Ruby,  and  no  re- 
serves ;  there  should  b'e  none  on  earth.  I  used  to  have  the 
queerest  notions  in  my  childish  brain,"  she  resumed,  after  a 
long  pause ;  "  I  often  wondered  if  I  was  not  an  adopted 
child — no  wonder  you  laugh  ;  I  do  now,  when  I  think  of  it 
— I  remember,  full  well,  sitting  hours  in  my  little  room,  rea- 
soning myself  into  that  conviction.  I  believe  I  usually  put 
forth  for  plaintiff  the  shrewd  plea,  that,  if  I  was  in  reality  her 
daughter,  my  mother  would  show  forth  more  love  for  me. 
I  ardently  longed  for  it,  and  I  have  shed  many  bitter  tears 
after  witnessing  how  my  playmates  were  caressed  in  their 
homes.  Debby,  to  be  sure,  was  always  affectionate,  but, 
like  my  mother,  the  boys  were  her  especial  pets.  Dear  Mark 
was  such  a  teaze ;  but  I  know  in  his  heart  he  liked  me.  Yet, 
that  was  not  sufficient.  I  wanted  some  one  to  tell  me  so. 
My  father  would  have  been  more  demonstrative ;  it  is  his 
nature.  But  whenever  he  drew  me  to  his  side,  or  on  his 
knee,  and  kissed  me,  my  mother  was  always  sure  to  start 
suddenly  in  sight,  and  say  something  sharply  sarcastic — '  she 
didn't  like  to  see  old  folks  make  fools  of  themselves,'  or 
something  to  the  same  effect — and  he  would  put  me  down 
as  if  he  had  been  shot.  I  believe  he  is  afraid  of  her;  she 
has  such  sudden  ways.  She  never  kissed  me  in  her  life.  I 
never  saw  her  kiss  the  others  :  consequently,  the  defendant's 
view  of  the  case,  including  the  customary  maternal  care  of 
clothing  and  nursing  in  sickness,  I  always  ignored,  and  ren- 
dered the  same  unlawful  verdict  Even  now,  I  have  my 
doubts  if  she  would  have  rendered  those  cares  for  love — set 
aside  custom." 

"  What  a  silly  idea,  dear  Demis  !"  I  said,  smiling  at  hoi 
fervor. 


RUBINA.  291 

"  After  you  came,"  she  resumed,  gravely,  "  all  was  so  dif- 
ferent. It  seemed  as  though  Providence  sent  you  in  answer 
to  my  wants;  a  blessed  gift.  What  was  your  sorrow  became 
to  me,  by  some  mysterious  transmutation,  my  greatest  joy  ; 
and  when  you  sobbed  through  those  long  hour's,  that  first 
night,  my  utmost  efforts  would  not  summon  sadness.  I  felt 
only  a  thrill  of  satisfaction  that  you  were  even  more  misera- 
ble than  myself,  so  that  I  might  win  your  heart  by  feeding  it 
with  comfort.  You  didn't  draw  back  when  I  threw  my  arms 
around  your  neck';  you  didn't  say  coolly,  '  There,  that  will 
do  :  you  muss  my  collar,'  when  I  pulled  down  your  head  to 
kiss  you — as  Amanda  usually  did.  You  returned  the  caress 
with  interest." 

"  Well,  that  was  -because  it  was  pleasant,"  I  interrupted, 
laughing.  '"I  never  cared  to  kiss  your  sister.  To  please 
myself,  I  will  give  you  one — two — yes,  a  dozen,  and  leave 
you.  You  won't  let  me  say  a  word." 

"  That's  a  pity — you  are  such  a  talker ;"  she  spoke  quite 
gayly.  "  Go,  if  you  will,  but  I  want  first  to  tell  you — I  may 
never  have  another  chance — that  perhaps  there  is  an  unsus- 
pected design  in  all  afflictions ;  that  one  may  be  taken  to 
make  room  for  another's  happiness,  and  then  they  in  their 
turn,  removed  for  the  same  cause :  that  your  mother — don't 
think  me  irreverent  or  unfeeling — died  to  make  my  happi- 
ness, and  I  may "  I  put  my  hand  over  her  mouth. 

"  Don't  say  it,  Demis.  It  is  a  terrible  thought.  If  you 
go  thus  far,  whose  happiness  am  /  preventing,  and  when  shall 
1  be  taken  from  earth,  for  no  other  purpose  than  that  anoth- 
er sinful  soul  may  wax  fat  in  the  fulness  of  a  brief  joy,  and 
then  give  room  to  its  heir  ?  No  !  we  are  not  mere  puppets 
of  an  unseen  intelligence,  I  feel  sure.  We  have  our  mission ; 
we  move  in  our  appointed  course, — Divinity  thus  reproduced." 


292  KUBDJA. 

"  Ruby,  it  is  a  grand  idea  to  me :  this  making  death — 
usually  so  repulsive — a  sacrificial  offering.  I  would  far  ra- 
ther die  that  an  object  might  be  attained,  the  which  my  living 
rendered  impossible,  than  to  go  out  like  the  exhausted  wick 
of  a  candle,  simply  because  there  is  no  further  supply  of  vi- 
tality. At  least,  if  one's  life  is  shorn  of  good  deeds,  its  close 
makes  some  amends,  if  it  bequeath  to  one  soul  the  priceless 
legacy  of  happiness." 

"What  an  admirable  martyr  you  would  make,  Demis!"  I 
said.  She  did  not  return  my  smile.  She  gazed  at  me  earn- 
estly, and  resumed,  unheeding  it : 

"  But  Ruby,  it  is  hard  for  the  living  to  view  the  great 
change  in  its  beneficent  aspect.  The  mystery  of  that  future 
is  shrouded  with  dread.  We  gaze  aghast  at  the  spectacle 
of  the  beautiful  spirit  seeking  to  be  delivered  from  the  thral- 
dom of  the  body.  Human  love  is  always  proven  stronger 
— in  its  hour  of  trial — for  the  decaying  case,  than  for  the 
fleeing,  imperishable  portion.  It  appeals  so  vividly  to  every 
sense — the  pale,  lifeless  lump,  oh  !  so  familiar — and  it  is  hard 
to  believe  that  all  which  once  constituted  it  our  own  is  not 
there  still,  though  dormant  from  the  reaction  of  physical 
pain." 

She  was  silent  now,  and  seemed  dreaming,  while  a  trium- 
phant smile  wreathed  her  lips.  I  noiselessly  left  her. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE  Doctor  came  again.  He  announced,  with  solemn  sat- 
isfaction, as  the  result  of  his  researches,  that  "Demis  had 
the  consumption.** 


EUBINA.  293 

"But  she  don't  cough  none,"  remonstrated  her  mother. 

"Can't  help  that.  Some  never  do,"  he  responded,  sen- 
tentiouslv ;  "but  for  all  that,  they  die  of  consumption." 

He  immediately  commenced  an  application  of  pills,  pow- 
ders, and  plasters,  after  the  good  old  rule.  His  unresisting 
patient  must  also  be  "  cupped,"  and  suffer  leeches  to  be  fas- 
tened to  her  white  throat,  and  blisters  to  be  raised,  until  she 
summoned  courage  to  decline  further  torture.  Dr.  Torry, 
offended  and  at.  fault,  left  her. 

"  I  shall  send  Doctor  Luther  to  see  her,"  said  Mart,  the 
morning  of  his  departure.  He  had  lingered  a  month  to  see 
if  his  sister  rallied  under  her  vigorous  treatment.  "  I  don't 
testify  personally  to.  his  skill,  but  all  Chispa  sounds  his 
praises." 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Demis,  with  a  dismayed  face,  "I  have 
had  enough." 

"  Of  blue  pills  and  powders,"  cut  in  Debby,  quickly.  "  I 
should  think  so.  She's  had  a  cal'mel  sore  mouth  ever  sence 
that  fust  dose.  I  knew  how  'twould  be  in  the  time  on't.  Dr. 
Tony's  a  proper  clever  man,  but  he  don't  know  ev'ry  thing, 
no  mor'n  I  do ;"  and  she  rocked,  indignantly.  "  I  never 
could  abide  merc'ry;  it  stays  forever  in  the  system,  jest 
where  you  put  it :  nothin.'  less'n  Gabriel's  trump'll  ever  start 
it  a  peg.  It'll  have  to  come  then,  if  we  expect  to  take  these 
poor  old  bodies  up  t'the  New  Jerusalem — though  what  on 
earth  we  want  'em  there  for,  is  mor'n  I  know.  I  know  one 
thing,  if  I's  to  take  my  pick,  after  I'd  once  got  fairly  out  of 
it,  I'd  bet  I  wouldn't  be  sech  a  fool  as  to  take  my  own  ag'in." 

"Dr.  Luther  is  called  all  sorts  of  names,"  said  Mark. 
"  Debby  can  find  out  all  about  him  when  he  comes ;"  he 
laughed  ;  "  she  has  a  genius  for  putting  people  through  the 
6ateclusm." 


294: 

He  came  the  third  day  from  Mark's  departure.  He  did 
not  impress  us  very  favorably,  for  he  entered  the  house  with- 
out the  usual  ceremony  of  -a  rap,  inquiring  abruptly  for  his 
patient.  He  looked  coarse  and  ignorant ;  vulgarly  presump- 
tuous in  manner,  and  inelegantly  careless  in  attire.  He  was 
perseveringly  obtuse  to  all  repellent  movements  on  his  pa- 
tient's part,  and  drew  his  chair  to  hers,  looking  in  her  face 
with  decidedly  non-professional  disrespect  and  indelicacy. 
Demis  intuitively  shrank  from  him,  yet  she  could  not  avoid 
a  smile  at  his  round,  ruddy  face — not  unlike  a  full  moon — 
encased  in  an  atmosphere  of  short  red  curls.  His  little  black 
eyes  roved  restlessly  around  the  room ;  up  at  the  ceiling, 
then  seeking  the  faces  present,  as  he  talked.  He  looked  as 
if  he  might  be  bound  upon  some  treasonable  errand,  or  a 
burglar  in  disguise,  seeking  out  the  vulnerable  points  for 
a  midnight  attack  ;  alternately  throwing  Demis  bayoneted 
glances  as  she  sat  before  him,  as  though  he  were  thus  prob 
ing  her  disease  by  means  of  their  lance-like  efficacy.  He 
deigned  to  ask  her  no  questions  :  they  would  have  been  a  vir- 
tual admission  of  the  fact  that  his  medical  knowledge  was  not 
quite  omniscient.  Then  he  cleared  his  throat  and  gave  us  the 
result  of  his  analysis  : 

"  I  see,  Missis,  that  you  have  the  induration  of  the  circu- 
lation of  the  whole  corporeal  system.  The  liver  is  the  seat 
of  life.  It  lies  to  the  right,  and  projects  to  the  left.  It  is  out 
of  its  orbit,  and  must  be  restored.  Hem  !  The  several  vest- 
ments which  encase  each  several  offices  of  all  that  constitute 
the  human  frame  are  highly  inflammatory  ;  they  must  be  sub- 
dued. Hem!  Fever  is  certain;  your  rapid  pult  tells  Unit 
story.  Hem  !  The  blood  mounts  to  the  brain,  causing  red 
cheeks;  that's  hectic.  Fits  sometimes  ensue;  I  see 'em  in 
prospect.  Hem  !  You  must  stop  drinking  coffee  and  tea, 


RUBINA.  295 

and  eating  pork.  Tea  contracts  the  nerves,  and  coffee  thick- 
ens the  blood  :  I  know  you  eat  pork,  because  your  face  shines. 
Hem  !"  ("  So  does  yours,"  I  subjoined,  mentally.)  "  You 
musn't  sleep  with  your  winder  open  ;  night  air's  very  injurus. 
Yes,  Missis,  I  see  your  system  is  in  a  very  complicated  state 
of  internal  disarrangement ;  more  so  than  usual,  although 
one  constitution  differeth  from  another,  as  one  star  differeth 
from  another  in  glory.  The  prophet  never  said  a  truer  thing 
than  this — '  all  flesh  is  grass.'  So  it  is,  Missis ;  so  it  is :  but 
we  can  cure  the  grass,  Missis,  and  make  it  grow  again, 
flem !" 

He  chuckled  at  his  own  conceit.  How  long  this  florid 
style  would  have  prevailed,  it  is  quite  impossible  to  say  ;  for 
Debby,  in  misguided  curiosity — no  longer  to  be  restrained — 
interrupted  him  with — 

"  Wall,  now,  Mister  Luther,  do  tell  us  what  you're  drivin' 
at.  What  be  you  ?  I  never  heard  no  sech  talk  afore :  it's 
part  scriptur  and  part  somethin'  else — a  new-fashioned  doc- 
trine, ain't  it  ?  I  heerd  John  Lucas  a  talkin'  one  day — ever 
hear  of  him  ?  He  lives  in  Shiler,  and's  a  broker  by  trade. 
He  married  Mis'  Martin's  sister ;  they've  been  out  here  this 
season — 'bout  there  bein'  a  new  kind  o'  medicine  comin'  into 
vogue  ;  nothin'  under  the  sun  but  leetle  teeny  pills  o'  sugar, 
as  big's  a  pin-head.  Dr.  Torry  makes  his'n  out  o'  brown 
bread  crumbs,  and  they're  as  diflikilt  to  swaller  as  bullets, 
but't  does  seem  kinder  curus  to  take  nothin'  but  sugar  in- 
stid.  I  'spect  though  it's  mostly  for  children,  but  when  su- 
gar's high,  seems  to  me  bread'd  do  as  well.  He  says  they 
cure  folks  astonishin' ;  make  'em  sweat  like  the  mischief.  I 
forgit  what  he  called  'em,  but  be  you  one  o'  them  sort  ?" 

"  I  am  a  dissectionist,  Missis.  I  tell  just  by  looking  in 
folks's  faces,  whether  any  thing  ails  them.  I  learned  it  by 


296  EUBINA. 

seeing  the  different  expressions  on  dead  people's  faces.  You 
can't  hide  an  ailment  from  me.  I  see  it  in  a  twinkling, 
Missis.  Hem !" 

"  Law  !  Then  you've  got  second-sight.  Born  with  a  veil 
over  your  face,  most  likely ;  and  sees  strange  things,  now 
don't  you  ?"  she  queried  eagerly. 

His  face  clouded.  "  No,  Missis.  I  don't  have  nothing  to 
do  with  the  devil  nor  his  works.  I'm  a  plain  man,  Missis ; 
and  if  I  do  say  it  as  shouldn't  say  it,  an  honest  one  too. 
Hem !" 

He  now  produced,  from  a  bundle,  tied  up  in  a  red  silk 
handkerchief,  all  manner  of  pulverized  herbs,  and  strange- 
scented  drugs,  which  went  through  the  usual  professional  for- 
mula of  smelling,  tasting,  and  pinching.  Then  he  called  for 
a  quart  bottle,  with  molasses,  gin,  sulphur,  cream  of  tartar ; 
with  which,  formidably  arranged  in  a  row  on  the  table  before 
him,  he  proceeded  leisurely  to  compound  an  infallible  cure 
for  the  above-named  frightful  combinations  of  disorders  :  his 
keen  bead-like  eyes  keeping  up  their  intermittent  survey 
around  the  ceiling,  and  occasionally  darting  aside  to  watch 
the  effect  on  our  faces  of  his  mysterious  proceedings.  Over 
some  of  the  drugs  he  lingered  doubtfully — shaking  his  tawny 
curls  as  if  fearful  of  consequences,  should  they  leap  into  the 
quart  bottle ;  but  stealthily  gathering  our  impressions  by  a 
quick  glance,  he  invariably  dropped  them  in.  Finally,  it  was 
filled  to  the  brim,  corked  and  handed  to  Demis,  who  looked 
at  it  rather  ruefully.  "  Have  I  got  to  take  all  that  ?"  she 
asked,  demurely,  holding  it  up  to  the  light. 

"  Certain,  Missis ;  and  more  too  when  that's  gone.  We 
must  make  an  outlet  for  the  system :  such  a  case  as  yours 
ain't  cured  by  one  dose,  nor  for  nothiu'.  To  be  well 
shaken  before  taken,  Missis.  Eight  teaspoonfuls,  moruiu', 


KUBIXA.  297 

noon,  and  night.  When  this  is  gone  I  shall  compound 
more.  That  induration  must  be  cured,  Missis ;  must  be 
cured.  Hem  !  Hem  !" 

Demis  laughed  as  he  departed  ;  his  little  black  eyes  giving 
a  farewell  roll  around  the  room,  with  his  accompanying, 
"  Good-day,  good-day,  Missis.  Hem  !" 

This  visit  of  the  learned  man  of  science — the  pride  and 
oracle  of  Chispa— had,  at  least,  one  beneficial  result :  it  afford- 
ed food  for  mirth,  and  in  laughing  at  the  recollection  of  his 
oddities,  Demis  temporarily  got  the  better  of  that  frightful 
"  induration."  which,  after  all  the  renovating  virtues  in  the 
huge  black  bottle  had  been  exhausted,  refilled,  and  again 
emptied,  obstinately  lingered  unseared. 


CHAPTER    XXYII. 

RAP,  rap,  rap  on  the  doors  of  the  kitchen.  Demis  started 
suddenly  into  an  upright  posture,  but  quickly  sank  back 
again,  on  hearing  a  strong  nasal  voice  answer  the  opening. 
During  the  past  month  a  bed  had  been  brought  down  into 
the  keeping-room  ;  for  she  grew  quite  too  weak  to  climb  the 
stairs  to  our  little  room.  There  were  days  when  she  scarcely 
left  it ;  and  others,  when  the  flattering  side  of  the  disease 
came  uppermost.  She  seemed  so  strong  then,  so  well  and 
cheery,  that  her  father's  face  brightened  into  renewed  hope, 
and  we  all  looked  upon  her  speedy  recovery  as  certain. 

I  opened  the'door  softly,  and  peeped  out.  "  It's  a  ped- 
dler," I  said,  leaving  it  a  trifle  ajar. 

Deborah  was  preparing  pies  for  the  oven,  sitting  at  the 
table,  with  Annah  standing  ready  to  help  her  to  articles  be- 
yond her  reach.  "  I  kinder  guess  now,  I've  happened  along 
13* 


298  RUBINA. 

in  the  nick  o'  time,"  he  observed,  depositing  his  hat  and 
bundle  on  the  floor ;  deliberately  crossing  his  short  fat  legs, 
and  keeping  up  a  quick  rocking  motion  of  the  elevated  foot. 
"  Now  I've  got  an  article  here,  that  the  old  Harry  himself 
can't  beat,  if  he  tries  till  doomsday.  It's  jes'  what  you  want 
precisely.  I  sell  'ein  in  ev'ry  single  house  I  come  to — and 
double  ones  too,  for  that  matter;  it  makes  no  odds  if  they've 
got  one  or  a  dozen  a'ready  ;  they  allcrs  buy  one  o'  me.  I'm 
so  pop'lar,  you  know" — with  a  succession  of  winks  to  Annah, 
who  looked  much  astonished  thereat — "  and,  I  take  it,  this  is 
a  leetlc  super  extry  to  any  thing  of  the  kind  that's  ever  been 
round  before."  . 

"  Humph  !     What  is  it?"  asked  Debby,  curtly. 

"  Can't  you  guess  now,  marm  ?  Give  you  three,  and  out. 
You  won't  ?  well  then  I  'spose  I'll  have  to  tell  you.  It's  a 
patent  pie-crimper,  and  a  leetle  the  cutest  thing  you  ever  did 
see.  I  sold  Mrs.  Pierce  up  here,  on  Sampson's  Hill  there,  one 
for  herself  and  each  of  her  gals  'gainst  they  step  off — as  they're 
sure  to  do.  Likely  young  wimmen  they  be  !  If  I'se  richer, 
I  ain't  sure  but  I'd  take  one  on' em  myself  at  a  ventur' — some 
takes  one;  some  two  (these  crimpers  I  mean,  rnarm),  jost's 
they  feel  'bout  it.  Don't  want  to  urge  nothin'.  Have  one  for 
fifteen  cents — two  for  twenty-five ;  so,  you  see,  it's  a  sight 
cheaper  to  take  two,  after  all." 

"  I  don't  want  any,"  said  Debby,  grimly. 

"  But  everybody  takes  one,"  he  stoutly  maintained,  "  and 
some  takes  more.  Now  it's  nothin'  to  me,  I  don't  make  'em  ; 
I  git  'em  down  to  York,  and  don't  have  a  plaguey  sight  o' 
profit.  Wait  till  you  see  one  operate,  marm.  I  carry  a 
block  round  with  me,  'bout  the  size  of  a  pie,  you  know — only 
not  quite  so'temptin',"— he  interrupted  himself  to  indulge 
in  a  hearty  chuckle,  and  a  few  more  winks  to  Annah, — "to 


RUBINA.  299 

show  folks  how  it  works."  He  whipped  out  of  his  bundle  a 
round  piece  of  wood  and  a  small  roller.  "  There  !  you  rest 
the  pie  so  fashion,  on  this  hand ;  then,  with  the  other,  take 
the  crimper  and  go  half  way  round,  so  fashion ;  then  turn 
the  pie,  and  go  the  other  half.  Don't  no  juice  run  out  then. 
Can't  if  it's  ever  so  much  disposed  to,  to  say  nothin'  of  looks. 
I  don't  wonder  there's  so  many  cross  women  bakin'  days  !" — 
Dcbby  turned  on  the  chair  and  gave  him  a  withering  look, 
which  he  did'nt  heed,  but  rocked  his  foot  and  proceeded 
coolly,  "  have  to  stand  pinchin'  the  crust  down  so  long  with 
their  thumb  and  forefinger,  it's  'npugh  to  make  'em  tired 
and  cross.  Now,  with  this  little  concern,  you  can  do  it 
in  no  time,  and  save  your  temper  int'  the  bargain.  Jes'  try 
one  on  them  pies  !"  he  entreated.  "  Only  try  it  once,  and  you 
wouldn't  do  without  it  on  no  consideration.  Come  !  that's 
fair,  ain't  it?  I  wouldn't  offer  it  to  ev'ry  body.  You'll  need 
it  too  for  your  little  gal,  'gainst  she  goes  to  housekeepin'. 
Pretty  little  thing  she  is  too ;  looks  jes'  like  her  mother ! 
Your'n,  ain't  she  ?" 

"  No,"  answered  Debby,  wrathfully.  "  I  ain't  come  to  that 
yit,  I  hope.  I  never  expect  to,  nuther." 

"  Never  mind,  marm.  Plenty  o'  time  yit,"  said  the  un- 
daunted peddler,  facetiously,  rubbing  his  knee.  "  Come  to 
think  on't,  you  do  look  too  young  to  own  sech  a  strappin' 
gal  as  that. '  How  old  might  you  be,  sis  ?"  he  inquired 
patronizingly. 

Deborah  gave  her  a  look  not  to  answer ;  accordingly 
Annah  observed  silence  and  shoved  her  the  all-spice  box,  with 
officious  zea!. 

"Now !  I  want  to  know  if  you  print  'em  that  way?"  in- 
quired the  peddler,  rising  and  going  to  the  table.  "  With  an 
old  back-comb  !  I  never  !" 


300         .  RUBINA. 

"  It's  a  clean  one,  if  it  is  an  old  one,"  said  Annah,  in- 
dignantly. 

"  Certain,  sis.  But  a  few  coppers  ain't  much  to  pay  out 
for  a  nice  one  ;  real  patent  too.  I'll  warrent  'em  or  refund 
the  money.  I  ain't  in  the  cheating  line  :  mean  to  do  the 
fair  thing  by  my  customers.  One'll  last  a  lifetime,  but  it's 
better  to  take  two,  in  case  one  gets  lost  or  stolen.  Then  a 
large  fam'ly  takes  a  good  many  pies,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that ;  I  don't  want  to  hear  no  more  talk  about 
it,"  sputtered  Debby. 

"  Wall,  don't  want  to  urge  nothin',  but  I  think  you  miss  it ; 
to-morrow'll  be  too  late.  I  expect  to  sell  'em  all  out  before 
then.  I've  got  .over  seventy  here" — slapping  his  bundle. 
"  Had  a  cool  hundred  to  start  with  ;  go  like  lightning,  you  see. 
Some  takes  one  or  two,  jes'  as  they  can  afford ;  'taint  much, 
any  way,  for  a  convenience." 

Demis  laughed.  Just  then  he  turned  his  face,  and  com- 
menced to  pack  his  bundle.  "  Why,  it's  Andrew  Jackson,"  I 
cried,  in  surprise. 

"  Mercy  !  how  do  you  know  ?"  said  she,  with  a  start. 

"  Oh  !  not  the  General,  Demis.  Only  one  of  my  pupils. 
I  must  speak  to  him." 

"  Oh,  I'm  well  as  common,  Miss  Brooks,"  he  said,  in  answer 
to  my  greeting ;  "  though  I've  had  a  pritty  tough  cold  'long 
back ;  feel  yit  'bout  half  and  half,  or  betwixt  hay  and  grass 
— as  the  farmers  say.  Glad  to  see  you,  Miss  Brooks.  Been 
meanin'  to  give  you  a  call  this  long  while." 

"  And  how  long  have  you  been  a  peddler,  Andrew  ?" 

"  Oh,  all  summer,  off  and  on.  Most  sold  out  though.  Yis, 
I've  got  the  cutest  invention,  Miss  Brooks ;  a  powerful  labor- 
saver,"  and  he  volubly  repeated  the  preceding  round  of 
arguments  in  favor  of  buying.  "  Can't  git  inarm  there  to  take 


RUBINA.  301 

one  even  on  trial.  Don't  you  want  one,  Miss  Brooks  ?  It'll 
keep,  you  know ;  won't  eat  nor  drink  nothin',  nor  take  up 
much  room.  Cheap  as  dirt  too.  I  don't  make  no  profit  on 
'em  scursely.  Now  this  is  all  talk  and  no  cider.  I'm  bound 
to  trade  ;  always  do,  you  know." 

"  I'd  kick  it  out  of  the  house,"  said  Debby,  hotly. 

"  Just  so,"  said  Andrew,  coolly.  "  Don't  want  to  urge 
nothin'.  You  know  your  own  feelin's  best,  I  'spose,  but  I 
really  think  you  miss  it ;  never'll  have  such  another  chance, 
see  if  ye  do.  Sell  'em  ev'rywhere  I  go."  He  slung  his 
bundle  over  his  shoulder,  and  departed,  still  chanting  the 
merits  of  his  neglected  wares. 

"  Thank  my  stars  !  He's  gone  at  last,"  said  Debby,  angrily. 
"  Impudent  young  rascal  as  ever  I  see  !  If  he  don't  come 
to  the  gallers  some  day,  it'll  be  'cause  the  rope  ain't  long 
enough  to  hang  him.  One  o'  your  scholars,  hey  !  A  pretty 
lot  they  must  have  been,  if  that's  a  specimen." 


CHAPTER    XXVIII. 

FAST  and  faster  fell  the  first  snow-flakes.  The  mountains 
were  wreathed,  in  haze;  only  their  broad,  bases  visible, 
crowned  with  firs,  pines,  hemlocks,  and  hosts  of  skeleton 
elms  and  beeches.  Here  and  there  a  fluttering  leaf — withered 
and  sapless  as  a  forlorn  human  heart — rustled  wearily  by  the 
window  to  rejoin  its  fellows.  Heaps  of  these  lay  crushed 
and  sodden  in  their  annual  graves  ;•  their  bright  hues  faded 
with  long,  lonesome  autumnal  drenchings.  Demis  lay  mute 
for  hours — often  for  days — comparatively  painless  ;  her 
thoughts  apparently  wandering  in  some  fondly  remembered 


302  RUBINA. 

past,  of  which  she  never  spoke.  Then  a  holy  calm  would 
settle  on  her  face,  and  I  knew  that  she  was  meditating  of 
coming  mysteries.  At  such  hours,  her  mother  often  en- 
deavored to  draw  her  into  conversation  upon  solemn  themes, 
but  the  effort  was  always  futile.  The  antagonism  between 
the  two  natures  could  not  be  thus  easily  dispelled  by  con- 
fidence. Aunt  Rhoda's  voice  never  failed,  indeed,  to  rouse 
her,  but  she  answered  her  questionings  at  random,  and 
sighed  with  relief  when  she  left  the  room.  Her  father  sat 
for  hours  on  the  bed's  foot,  watching  her  every  motion  with 
serious,  misgiving  eyes.  He  anticipated  every  want,  and 
talked  confidently  of  her  recovery  when  winter  should  have 
melted  into  spring ;  but  it  was  evident  that  fear  mingled 
largely  in  the  hopeful  compound,  daily  mixed  by  him  and 
held  for  her  pale  lips  to  swallow.  None  however  seemed 
to  think  that  she  was  really  treading  the  very  verge  of  the 
sunless  path  we  all  must  enter  upon  sooner  or  later,  either 
willing  or  reluctant  voyagers,  but  Deborah.  She  shook  her 
head  ominously  when  she  heard  Uncle  Joel's  cheering 
prophecies,  muttered  unintelligible  forebodings,  or  set  up  a 
dismal  strain  of  some  ancient  hymn — her  usual  resource  when 
her  emotions  overpowered  words. 

One  day,  after  hours  of  silence,  broken  only  by  the  coming  in 
and  going  out  of  the  household,  she  roused  herself  to  say  : 
"  Did  I  not  prophesy  rightly  ?  I  knew  he  would  not  come  !" 

"  Do  you  wish  to  see  him,  Demis  ?  He  is  easily  sent  for, 
you  know." 

A  radiant  smile  answered  me.  "  No !  That  is  all  past. 
I  have  thought,  sometimes,  that  I  must  see  him  once  more ; 
but  I  do  not  desire  it  now.  I  wonder  I  ever  did.  I  shall 
look  down  upon  him  from  Heaven,  as  calmly  as  upon  a 
stranger— only,  there  will  be  no  strangers  there  :  all  will  he 


RUBINA.  303 

to  me  as  brothers  and  sisters,  welded  to  my  heart  with  a 
spark  of  the  Divine  love.  Rnby,  I  have  also  wondered  at 
the  smallness  of  earthly,  love.  It  is  all  full  of  self — with 
occasional  pure  sparkles  in  it  perhaps,  but  still  gross  and 
calculating.  Divine  love  is  purity  itself.  Judas's  gold  can- 
not buy  it.  The  tempter  cannot  seduce  it.  Humanity,  in 
its  worst  form,  cannot  weary  out  its  long-suffering  patience. 
Tt  is  incorrupt  and  incorruptible.-  I  have  felt,  sometimes,  a 
brief  taste  of  it.  I  believe  I  now  love  the  whole  world  ;  at 
least  I  desire  to ;  only  ignorance  will  so  crowd  us  into  re- 
taliation. Ruby,  I  used  to  be  a  passionate  girl.  I  have 
hated  intensely.  I  am  sorry  for  it;  do  you  think  it  will 
be  remembered  against  me  ?" 

"  I  have  been  thinking  of  Heaven,"  she  said  presently. 
"Oh,  Ruby,  I  have  such  glorious  glimpses  of  what  was  once 
so  dark  to  me.  I  see  the  dividing  shores  between  Time  and 
Eternity,  and  they  are  not  gloomy.  My  precious  sister,  it 
is  our  blindness  that  makes  them  gloomy  to  us ;  but  we 
shall  slip  that  off  like  a  garment,  as  we  draw  near  and 
nearer.  Time  fades  to  a  mere  speck  in  the  distance.  I  often 
fancy  that  I  have  left  it  forever  behind,  till  I  open  my  eyes 
and  see  your  dear  familiar  faces  still  around  me." 

"  My  darling,  you  are  talking  too  much,"  I  said  softly. 

"No  !  I  do  not  talk  enough.  I  cannot  talk  to  the  minis- 
ters, and  I  rarely  see  you  alone.  I  love  best  to  think,  but 
God  gave  us  our  faith  to  tell  to  men ;  not  to  keep  it  unused 
and  palsied.  Oh  !  Ruby,  I  see  revealed  other  mysteries,  but 
a  seal  is  on  my  lips ;  I  cannot  tell  you.  Oh !  it  is  not  a 
silent  country.  It  is  not  music  which  I  hear ;  it  is  not  harps 
or  angelic  praises.  It  is  far,  far  more  wonderful,  more 
glorious,  more  satisfying.  It  is  Divine  Harmony."  She 
closed  her  eyes  in  a  sort  of  blissful  trance,  and  clasped  her 


304  ETJBINA. 

wasted  palms  together ;  she  neither  spoke  nor  moved  for 
several  minutes.  Annab  looked  in  at  the  door,  but  I  mo- 
tioned her  away  in  silence.  Presently  she  said,  slowly : 

"  You  think  your  vision  good,  Ruby.  Imagine  it  in- 
finitely increasing.  Conceive  each  faculty  expanding  with 
never-ending  power.  Conceive  all  earthly  annoyances,  and 
irritating  hindrances,  forever  abandoned  with  this  frail, 
ignorant  body.  Conceive  the  temporary  reign  of  matter 
ended,  and  the  immortal  reign  of  mind  begun.  Then,  can 
you  imagine  Heaven  ?  No.  Do  you  remember  the  evening 
when  Natty  was  brought  home  ?  and  our  talk,  that  sad, 
watchful  night ••?" 

"  I  remember  many  things  which  were  said,  dear  Demis. 
We  spoke  of  the  future  life." 

"  Yes  !  Mark  thought  it  a  permanent  location  of  the  blessed 
abode  of  the  saints  above,  and  a  dread  abyss  of  woe  below. 
He  thought  one.  abode  ringing  with  hallelujahs  of  praise  ;  the 
other,  reeking  with  fearful  curses  and  endless  waitings  of 
the  lost.  Ruby,  every  heart  that  overcomes,  and  purges 
itself  of  a  great  temptation,  a  great  sin,  is  a  saint — if  un- 
canonized  by  doctors  of  divinity  upon  earth.  Notwithstand- 
ing their  limited  number  of  '  The  Elect,'  I  believe  there  will 
more  saints  than  sinners  stand  before  the  'judgment-seat.' 
How  can  we  judge  of  every  soul,  every  life  ;  encumbered,  as 
we  are,  with  a  still  -greater  proportion  of  fleshly  lusts  and 
vain-glorious  conceit  ? 

"  The  schoolmaster  thought  that  heaven  was  not  a  country 
rather  one  state  of  mind  which  made  heaven  and  hell ;  ye* 
he,  too,  believed  repentance,  pardon,  impossible  beyond  the 
tomb.     Reward,  certain  for  the  good  ;  and  punishment,  never 
remitted,  toward  the  wicked." 

"  Yes,  Demis ;"  I  interrupted.    "  I  remember  your  startling 


RUBIXA.  305 

them  by  observing,  '  the  Bible  tells  us  that  heaven  is  where 
God  is ;  and  it  also  says,  that  God  is  everywhere,  even  in 
the  depths  of  hell.  Then,  of  course,  that  must  be  a  blissful 
state,  call  it  by  what  name  you  will.'  I  recall,  perfectly, 
their  amazement,  and  Mark's  saying  quickly,  '  Where  can  she 
have  got  such  doctrine?'  The  schoolmaster  said,  thought- 
fully :  '  I  have  some  old  pamphlets  of  Parker's  works  ;  Miss 
Deinis,  have  you  been  dipping  into  them  ?  They  are  in  my 
room,  I  believe.' " 

"  Yes,"  assented  Demis.  "  But,  Ruby,  I  had  not  read  his 
books ;  I  never  knew  of  their  existence.  That  remark  came 
uppermost  in  my  mind,  and  I  made  it.  It  seemed  to  me  the 
only  reasonable  conclusion." 

"  Poor  Mark  was  frightened,"  I  went  on.  "  'Are  you  a  dis- 
ciple of  Theodore  Parker?'  he  asked  of  the  schoolmaster. 
'  No,'  said  Mr.  Hume.  '  But  I  like  to  read  his  works.  I  do 
not  believe  his  reasoning.  He  so  glorifies  and  ennobles 
nature.  ,  There  is  no  God  in  nature.  It  is  so  futile,  so 
earthly,  that  it  falls  apart  with  picking;  a  will  o'  th'  wisp, 
it  leads  the  unwary  into  miry  bondage — a  bondage  un- 
chastened  by  Divine  sovereignty.'  " 

"  I  remember,  I  thought  it  very  fine  talk  then"  laughed 
Demis;  "and  Olive's  question  pertinent:  'Why  do  you 
read  them,  then  ?' " 

"  Well,  Demis,  his  answer  was  a  good  one.  '  To  profit  by 
their  false  philosophy.  I  expect  some  day — God  willing — 
to  be  a  minister.  I  must  know  what  arguments  to  refute, 
or  my  preaching  will  fall  to  the  -ground.'  I  remember  that 
Mark  rather  solemnly  rose  and  offered  his  hand  to  the 
schoolmaster,  saying,  '  We  are  then  brothers  in  Christ  Jesus 
our  Lord  ;'  and  how  heartily  Mr.  Hume  grasped  it,  respond- 
ing earnestly,  '  I  am  glad  indeed  to  hear  it.' " 


306  BUBINA. 

"  I  see,"  said  Demis,  smiling,  "  that  you  have  a  good 
memory  ;  but,"  she  added,  doubtfully,  "  Mark  will  never  be 
a  successful  minister  ;  he  has  no  taste  or  talent  for  the  office," 
— she  hesitated, — "  nor  Mr.  Hume  either." 

"Mark  should  be  an  artist,  Demis.  What  a  pity  he 
burned  his  things !" 

"  No,  I  think  his  passion  is  for  the  sea,"  she  returned  de- 
cisively. "  He  took  to  drawing  as  the  next  thing  to  that; 
but,  if  you  ever  noticed,  nearly  all  his  sketches  were  of 
the  sea — purely  imaginary  of  course,  yet  showing  whither  his 
thought  tended.  He  ran  away  when  a  little  boy,  '  to  go  to 
Boston,'  he  said,  when  father  followed  and  brought  him 
back." 

"Why  you  never  told  me  of  that  before,"  I  said,  in 
surprise. 

*'  No ;  I  thought  it  best  not ;  and,  in  fact,  I  had  nearly 
forgotten  it.  I  have  a  faint  recollection  of  the  whole  scene. 
Mother  was  opposed  to  any  mention  of  it,  but  Amanda 
would  maliciously  speak  of  it  when  Mark  teazcd  her  too 
much.  Mother  has  a  delusive  idea,  that  the  word  sailor  is 
synonymous  with  every  thing  wicked :  profanity,  drunk- 
enness, Sabbath-breaking,  and  so  on,  through  the  list  of 
stereotyped  vices." 

"  Stereotyped  vices,  Demis  ?" 

"  Yes.  For  there  are  vices  just  as  bad  as  these,  which  no 
one  ever  thinks  of  accounting  as  such,  because  they  affect  less 
strongly  our  physical  well-being.  To  a  sensitive  soul  they 
are  infinitely  worse.  Well,  Ruby,  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
persuading  mother  out  of  a  prejudice,  and  she  labored  so 
zealously  to  wean  Mark's  thoughts  from  a  seafaring  life, 
that  of  course  she  succeeded  ;  she  always  does.  But  he  did 
not  forget.  Yes,"  she  laughed  softly,  "  Mr.  Lee  asked  him, 


BUBIXA.  307 

a  year  or  two  after,  what  book  he  should  give  him  for  com- 
mitting so  perfectly  to  memory  the  Gospel  of  St.  Luke  ? 
Mark  forgot  that  he  should  nominate  one  of  a  pious  character, 
and  promptly  put  forward,  '  Captain  Marryatt's  Tales  of  Ship- 
wrecks, if  you  please,  sir,'  much  to  the  good  Elder's  horror. 
However,  he  wisely  said  nothing,  but  forwarded  next  day 
by  Bessy,  '  Doddridge's  Saint's  Rest,'  that  exceedingly  good 
book,  which  everybody  respects  and  values,  but  nobody  likes 
to  read.  I  used  to  think  if  I  ever  had  a  library,  I  should  have 
— for  respectability's  sake — to  put  it  on  one  of  the  shelves ; 
but  I  shrank  in  despair  from  the  thought  of  its  perusal." 

"But  your  mother  is  equally  opposed  to  his  painting." 

"  Yes ;  she  wants  her  own  way.  She  is  determined  that 
he  shall  be  a  minister,  so  one  he  will  have  to  be.  That  is 
the  reason  of  her  bitterness  toward  art.  Olive  now " 

"  Why  there  she  is,  coming  through  the  gate,"  I  cried, 
springing  up.. 

"  Bless  her  sweet  face.  It  seems  an  age  since  we  have 
seen  it." 

I  met  her  at  the  door.  "  How  is  she  ?"  nodding  her  head 
in  the  direction  of  the  keeping-room.  I  thought  her  un- 
usually pale  and  anxious. 

"  Gradually  passing  away.  Don't  start,  or  look  shocked, 
when  you  see  how  she  has  changed.  It  annoys  her  exces- 
sively. And  where  have  you  kept  yourself,  Olive,  during 
all  these  weary  weeks?" 

"  Oh  !"  she  said,  painfully,  "  do  you  not  know  ?  I  thought 
you  would  have  heard." 

"  I  have  heard  nothing.  I  have  been  nowhere  to  gather 
information." 

"  Well,  we  are  hoping  that  it.is  only  a  temporary  ailment, 
that  will  soon  yield  to  careful  treatment  and  absence  from 


308  RUBINA. 

exciting  causes.  "It  is  Avis,"  she  whispered  huskily; 
"  her  reason  is  gone  completely.  She  is  quite  gentle  most 
of  the  time,  but  at  times  she  raves  fearfully."  She  removed 
her  bonnet  and  shawl.  "  J  can  stay  until  evening,"  she  said 
sadly.  "  She  is  quite  herself  to-day." 

I  was  shocked.  "  Is  it  hereditary  in  your  family,  Olive  ?'' 
"  Indeed  no,"  she  answered  quickly  ;  "  we  are  at  a  loss 
to  account  for  it  in  any  other  way  than  these  late  revival 
meetings.  She  is  naturally  shy,  and  deeply  imaginative. 
She  was  one  of  the  first  who  were  convicted,  and  her  anxiety 
to  get  relief  was  intense.  We  all  prayed  with  her,  and  for 
her ;  we  held  special  prayer-circles  on  her  account,  but  still  she 
was  tormented  by  her  overpowering  sinfulness,  and  could 
not  feel  that  she  was  pardoned.  She  saw  others  received 
into  the  Church,  and  it  made  her  more  earnest  in  her  en- 
deavors. I  have  frequently  heard  her  up  all  night,  reading 
aloud  from  the  Bible  ;  walking  her  room  and  making  such 
pleading  prayers.  Ruby,  it  was  enough  to  move  a  heart  of 
stone.  She  fairly  wrestled  for  the  blessing,  but  still  it  was 
of  no  avail.  The  ministers  encouraged  these  unnatural 
strivings,  and  all  we  could  say  was  thrown  to  the  winds. 
Mother  tried  to  convince  her  that  she  was  accepted,  but  she 
said  that  she  knew  better.  She  looked  for  the  sudden 
peace  to  fall  on  her  bruised  heart, — the  great  blissful 
calm  of  which  other  converts  tell, — and  she  would  have 
nothing  ehe.  Elder  Fuller  exhorted  her  to  strive  until  she 
obtained  it,  or  she  would  be  condemned  forever.  It  haunted 
her ;  and  oh,  Ruby  !  she  at  times  thinks  she  is  damned,  when 
her  oaths  and  revilings  are  terrible  to  hear.  When  in  a  quiet 
mood,  she  abhors  all  mention  or  sight  of  Elder  Fuller.  If  he 
passes  the  window,  it  .makes  her  rave  immediately ;  she 
thinks  him  coming  to  conduct  her  to  torment,  and  we  have 


EUBINA.  309 

been  obliged  to  request  him  to  stay  away.  We  locked  up 
the  Bibles  from  her — for  she  will  read  constantly,  and  dwell 
upon  the  denunciatory  passages,  as  particularly  applicable  to 
her  own  case.  It  was  of  no  use,  however.  She  ran  off  one 
day  to  Mr.  Wright's,  and  told  them  that  we  were  such 
heathen  that  we  had  not  a  Bible  in  the  house ;  begging  so 
piteously  for  one,  that  they  had  not  the  heart  to  denv  her. 
She  keeps  it  hidden  from  us  at  night." 

"  It  is  all  because  of  those  exciting  meetings,"  I  cried,  in- 
dignantly ;  "  I  wonder  there  are  not  more  made  insane  by 
them.  It's  shameful ;  it's  abominable ;  it's " 

"  Hush !  oh,  hush !"  she  entreated,  wringing  her  hands 
and  crying  softly.  "  It's  hard  enough  to  bear,  Ruby,  but  I 
don't  feel  as  you  do  about  it.  It's  the  will  of  Providence, 
doubtless,  for  some  wise  purpose.  '  Whom  the  Lord  loveth', 
he  chasteneth,'  you  know.  I  need  this  trial,  doubtless  ;  yea, 
I  welcome  it  gladly,  for  it  sets  to  -rest  all  my  doubts;  I 
know  by  this  scourging,  that  I  am  received  into  the  heaven- 
ly fold." 

"Well,"  I  said,  nowise  convinced,  ".don't  mention  it  to 
Demis;  she  is  too  weak  to  bear  the  shock.  Oh,  Olive! 
you  should  hear  her  triumphant  creed.  'You  should  see 
how  calmly  she  is  treading  eternity's  marge.  Not  one 
anxious  thought  to  distress  her :  not  one  sweep  of  the  wind 
of  empty  doctrine  can  overturn  the  firm,  sure  foundations 
of  her  dying  faith." 

"  Don't  the  ministers  come  to  talk  with  her  ?"  she  in- 
quired, anxiously. 

"  Oh,  dear !  Yes.  Every  week ;  and  I  am  weary  of  their 
trite  exhortations  and  meaningless  prayers.  Excuse  me, 
Olive, — but  when  they  roam  so  over  the  old  monotonous 
round,  seeming  never  to  know  how  cr  when  to  conduct  a 


310  RTJBINA. 

prudent  retreat,  I  always  feel  a  reckless  desire  to  clip  the 
tangled  thread  somewhere,  anywhere,  so  it  but  bring  the 
relief  of  silence.  Now,  put  on  your  company  face,  for  here 
we  are  at  the  door,  and  that  sorrowful  visage  tells  its  own 
story." 

Demis  greeted  her  friend  warmly.  She  grew  cheerful, 
animated,  and  all  at  once,  declared  her  intention  of  "  sitting 
up."  I  remonstrated;  she  had  not  risen  for  a  week;  but 
she  showed  me  a  flash  of  her  old  wilful  ways,  and  peremp- 
torily told  me  "  she  knew  best."  So  we  soon  had  her 
snugly  ensconced  in  a  soft,  warm  rocking-chair  by  the 
window. 

"  Now,  this  is  nice  !"  she  cried,  delightedly.  "  You  two 
are  my  world,  and  this  is  our  haven  of  refuge.  The  sky 
looks  wintry  and  sullen.  The  wind  moans  drearily ;  but 
what  matter  ?  Inside,  all  is  peacefully  secure.  Why2  it's  a 
step  toward  the  perfect  realization  of  our  day-dreams,  Ruby," 
she  said  gayly.  "Ah!  those  were  too  extravagant  to  last." 

"  And  what  might  they  have  been  ?"  laughed  Olive. 

"Oh,  the  sweetest  ones,"  I  interrupted.  "Demis,  be 
quiet,  pray  !  You  are  beside  yourself." 

"  No,  you  mean  I  am  beside  Olive,"  she  laughed,  gesticu- 
lating absurdly. 

"We  were  to  have  a  nice  little  nest  to  ourselves — Demis, 
Annah,  and  I — on  the  whole,  my  pet,  we  will  admit  Olive,  I 
think  ?" 

"  Of  course,"  said  Demis. 

"Thank  you,"  rejoined  Olive,  demurely.  "A  compli- 
ment from  your  exclusiveness,  certainly  ;  but  I  will  first  hear 
where  this  miniature  Eden  is  to  be  located.  I  reserve  my 
acceptance." 

"  A  lodge  in  some  vast  wilderness,"  sung  Demis,  saucily. 


KUBINA.  311 

"  Nonsense !  Fancy  three  rooms,  neither  large  ao»  small 
in  some  populous  city,"  I  began. 

"  Of  course.  -  It's  a  stretch  of  the  imagination  ;  but  I  can 
do  it,"  said  Olive. 

u  One,  containing  a  bureau,  a  wardrobe,  two  cots,  and  a 
rocking-chair ;  a  pretty  wall-paper,  and  a  print  of  •  the 
'  Holy  Family.'  "  Olive  laughed  provoldngly.  "  Another, 
contains  more  chairs ;  a  sofa,  an  open  piano,  a  round 
table,  thickly  strewn  with  books,  magazines,  and  papers; 
a  well-filled  work-basket  also  stands  on  it,  never  lessening, 
as  it  ought,  the  size  of  its  piled  up  contents.  Pure  harmoni- 
ously tinted  landscapes  hang  on  the  white  walls" — Demis 
stoutly  petitioned  for  a  gorgeously  gilded  wall-paper ;  but  I 
for  once  was  invulnerable — "  a  tiny  clock  ticks  on  the  mantel, 
a  pretty  lamp  sheds  over  the  scene  a  mellow  radiance." 

"  Is  it  occupied  ?"  inquired  Olive,  with  interest. 

"By  all  means.  A  dark-eyed  lassie  with  rosy  cheeks 
bends  by  the  pleasant  fire-light  copying  musical  score  ;  hum- 
ming softly  to  herself  the  magical  notes  which  the  ready  hand 
transfixes  on  the  paper.  Anon,  she  shakes  her  head  merrily 
and  breaks  into  a  louder  warble.  Shall  I  whisper  to  you  of 
triumphal  nights,  when,  flushed  with  victory  over  effort,  and 
her  love  for  art,  the  sweet  intoxicating  applause  of  listening 
thousands  ringing  in  her  ears — " 

"  There,  that  will  do,"  broke  in  Demis,  with  a  wistful 
laugh.  "  I  didn't  know  that  your  fancy  was  so  unmercifully 
vivid." 

."Very  well,  then.  Another  girl,  with  disordered  attire, 
and  "an  ink-spot  on  each  finger— pale,  haggard,  and  woe- 
be-gone — wrinkles  her  brow  convulsively  with  fruitless  effort 
to  embody  the  embryo  thoughts  in  her  brain.  She  frowns 
horribly,  having  a  capacity  therefor,  and  casts  appealing 


312  RUBINA. 

glances  at  the  fair,  lovely  landscapes;  they  smile  back  on 
her  a  calm  disdain,  and  seem  to  nestle  more  lovingly  to- 
gether, in  their  serener  intelligence.  The.sweet  voice  war- 
bles still ;  the  tiny  clock  ticks  still  louder.  Then  the  paper 
impatiently  rustles :  '  I  cannot  do  it,'  she  cries ;  *  do  what  I 
can,  the  clothed  thought  in  no  respect  resembles  its  naked" 
progenitor.  It  is  a  weak,  miserable,  conventional  worldling. 
My  book  will  be  a  failure.'  '  No,  indeed,  sister  !' — a  young 
girl  starts  from  the  piano,  whence  wonderful  vibrations  have 
been  floating  out  on  the  confined  atmosphere ;  and,  ap- 
proaching, drops  a  kiss  on  the  tired  brow ; — '  there's  no 
such  thing  as  fail  to  a  determined  spirit.  I  have  heard  you 
say  that,  sister,  a  score  of  times.'  '  Ah,  yes !  but  I  may 
be  mistaken,'  says  the  other,  wearily.  '  It  is  a  rugged  path 
to  tread,  when  not  even  the  anticipation  of  success  waits  for 
one  at  the  end.  I  abjure  literature,  and  go  straightway  to 
shirt-making.'  '  At  your  peril !  Put  down  your  work 
awhile  and  listen,'  and  she  darts,  like  a  humming-bird,  back  to 
her  stool ;  the  tiny  hands  sweep  a  flood  of  harmony  from  the 
snowy  keys.  '  Ah  !  Von  Weber  is  divine !'  she  murmurs 
passionately  ;  'is  there  any  thing  like  itf  Demis,  come  and 
add  emphasis  to  my  paltry  rendering,  with  your  wonderful 
voice.' " 

"When  am  I  to  come  into  the  scene?"  inquired  Olive, 
rather  ruefully. 

"  Ma  belle,  you  are  general  superintendent  and  comp- 
troller of  the  customs  of  this  fairy  household,"  I  returned. 

"  Do  you  mean — the  housemaid  ?"  she  exclaimed,  in  mock 
indignation.  "  Am  I  to  stay  in  the  kitchen  ?" 

"Ah  !  we  forget  the  kitchen;  for  we  boast  one — a  mimic 
affair,  but  containing,  within  itself,  all  essentials  for  comfort. 
A  little  table,  spread  with  the  snowiest  of  damask,  the  lightest 


RUBISTA.  313 

of  rolls,  the  most  golden-hued  butter — with  the  usual  oak- 
leaf  stamp  ;  pure,  transparent  honey,  oozing  from  its  perfect 
cells ;  young  hyson,  steaming  fragrantly  from  the  silver  urn, 
also  waits  to  greet  us.  Then  the  long  evenings,  gliding 
away  into  yesterdays,  on  a  pleasurable  stream  of  reading, 
talking,  planning,  hoping,  singing:  very  little  work — the 
days  are  for  that.  Do  you  like  my  picture,  Olive  ?" 

'*  Yes,"  observed  Demis,  dreamily ;  closing  her  eyes  to 
imagine  it  all  the  more  perfectly.  "  We  have  passed  many 
wakeful  nights  in  building  such  unsubstantial  domiciles.  A 
piano  ?  I  wish  I  indeed  had  one,"  she  murmured  wistfully. 
"  I  never  saw  one,  but  it  seems  as  if  I  could  play.  I  know 
I  could  breathe  it  all  out ;  all,  which,  pent  up  here,  threatens 
to  strangle  me."  She  smote  her  breast  softly,  then,  as  if 
suddenly  remembering,  opened  her  eyes  with  a  start.  "  I 
feel  absolutely  strong  to-day,  girls.  I  should  like  to  sing  a 
little,  if  you  will  choose  what  you  would  like  to  hear." 

"  Oh,"  I  said  quickly,  "  the  first  ballad  you  ever  sang  to 
me,  '  Barbara  Allen.'  " 

She  laughed  softly.  "  I  caught  it  from  Deborah.  It  is 
one  of  her  old  songs."  She  sang  it  with  tremulous  sweet- 
ness. At  the  first  strain,  Debby  opened  the  door,  came  in 
softly ;  and  as  the  sad  refrain  floated  away,  the  tears  rolled 
down  her  withered  cheeks ;  she  wiped  them  away  with  a 
corner  of  her  apron. 

"  I  know  it's  foolish,  but  I  can't  help  it,"  she  said  at  last, 
as  Demis  feebly  1  iighed  at  her.  "  It's  as  true  as  the  grave ; 
that  story  is.  I  heard  all  about  it  in  the  time  on't ;  long 
'afore  'twas  set  to  music." 

"  Dear  me !"  whispered  Demis,  in  dismay,  glancing  out  of 
the  window.  "  Here  is  Elder  Love  coming  again.  It'a 
worse  than  the  inquisition!" 


314  RUBINA. 

"I  knew  somebody'd  come,"  said  Debby ;  "for  I  put  two 
chair-backs  together,  and  dropped  my  dishcloth,  in't  the 
bargain.  I  never  knew  'em  to  fail." 

"  He  shall  not  see  you  if  you  say  so,  Demis,"  I  said,  with 
something  of  a  martial  air,  I  suppose,  for  they  all  laughed. 

"  I  don't  want  to  see  him,  but  I  will"  said  Demis,  sweetly. 
"  My  mother  would  be  displeased,  if  I  made  even  a  show  of 
objection,  and  he  would  never  forgive  it.  Besides,  it  will 
soon  be  over."  I  could  not  divine  if  she  referred  to  the 
visit,  or  to  her  own  stay  upon  earth. 

"Good-day,  young  wimmen  !"  was  Elder  Love's  solemn 
greeting,  as  he  entered  the  room,  followed  by  Aunt  Rhoda, 
and  deposited  his  ungainly  bulk  on  the  side  of  the  bed,  close 
to  Demis's  chair.  He  ignored  our  presence  further,  and 
immediately  opened  a  conversation  with  her. 

"  Has  the  Lord  been  graciously  pleased  to  incline  your 
heart  unto  his  testimonies  yet,  my  young  friend  ?"  A  silence 
followed.  "  Do  you  feel  the  need  of  his  merciful  interces- 
sion by  this  time  ?  or,  is  your  heart  utterly  given  over  to 
the  lying  and  deceitful  vanities  of  the  world  ?"  No  answer  : 
I  was  mentally  speculating,  whether  it  would  not  be  well 
enough,  if  he  had  an  appreciative  sense  of  these  vanities, 
in  the  shape  of  clean  wristbands — his  own  were  unwhole- 
somely  dirty — and  I  resolved  to  give  him  a  hint  to  this 
effect,  if  he  continued  his  persecutions  to  an  unwarrantable 
length. 

"  What  do  you  consider  vanities,  Mr.  Love  ?"  asked  Demis, 
placidly.  Now,  he  liked  to  be  called  Elder  ;  and  this  plain 
title  by  no  means  suited  him.  He  looked  angry,  and  ire- 
fully  retorted : 

"Irreverence  does  not  become  the  young ;  it  is  unseemly." 

Demis  looked    astonished,  but   forbore  to  ask  him  his 


RUBINA.  315 

meaning,  and  after  a  moment's  pause,  he  proceeded  to  define 
vanity.  "  It  springeth  from  an  unregenerate  heart,  my 
friend.  All  carnal  wishes  and  desires  for  the  pleasures  of 
this  poor  world — singing,  dancing,  and  all  manner  of  like 
sinful  amusements ;  they  are  full  of  abomination  in  the  sight 
of  the  Lord." 

"  Is  singing  wicked  ?"  I  asked,  demurely. 

"  Not  singing  praises  to  Him  with  psalms,  and  hymns,  and 
sperritual  songs,  young  woman ;  but  from  frivolous  songs 
turn  thou  away.  They  are  a  deceitful  snare  ;  one  of  the  pits 
of  the  Evil  One." 

"  I  like  them,"  I  said,  mischievously,  "although  I  cannot 
sing  them  ;  the  more's  the  pity."  He  turned  on  me  a  wrath- 
ful glance. 

"  Better  be  thankful,  young  woman,  that  you  have  escaped 
one  temptation,"  he  said,  severely.  He  thus  continued  prod- 
igally sowing  good  counsel,  but  in  his  estimation  it  was  wheat 
dropped  in  stony  places  :  not  one  wayside  flower  of  promise 
to  decorate  his  spiritual  hatband,  when  he  should  exultantly 
appear  before  his  King.  All  around  ran  rills  of  living  water, 
but  in  our  blindness  we  saw  them  not;  in  our  ignorant 
obstinacy  we  would  not  sip  when  offered.  We  rebuffed  the 
generous  donor,  and  spilled  recklessly  the  priceless  drops. 
We  spurned  the  glad  tidings  of  free  grace,  and  slaked  our 
burning  thirst  with  the  briny  vintage  of  death — quaffed  with 
unbelievers.  He  saw  only  one  road  to  Paradise ;  the  way 
he  trod.  "  Come  with  me,  or  you  will  be  lost,"  he  cried  ; 
"  those  other  paths  are  flowery,  and  look  pleasant :  but 
deadly  miasma  lurks  beneath  the  shade,  and  they  lead  to  a 
great  gulf  called  Ruin ;" — never  heeding  the  fact  that  all  these 
diverse  paths  of  our  human  pilgrimage  must  be  submerged 
in  the  intervening  river  of  Death  ;  and  that,  perchance,  all 


316  RUBINA,. 

sects,  and  creeds,  and  dogmas,  will  be  stripped  by  the  rush- 
ing torrent  of  their  earthly  significance,  their  carefully  deck- 
ed apparel  of  words,  and  our  souls  enter  the  pearly  gates  be- 
yond, naked  in  the  beautiful  simplicity  of  the  religion  of  Jesus. 

Let  me  do  him  justice.  He  was  sincere  in  his  appeals. 
He  labored  faithfully,  in  his  convictions  of  duty.  His  skirts 
were  cleared  from  the  blood  of  the  perishing ;  for  wherever 
he  was — in  season  and  out  of  season — he  broached  to  them 
this  subject.  It  was  uppermost  in  his  thoughts,  but  alas  ! 
pervaded  not  his  life,  after  the  true  Christ-like  pattern.  He 
might  have  preached  effectual  sermons,  simply  in  living  daily 
the  life  of  the  saints ;  in  wearing  around  his  self-righteous- 
ness the  mantle  of  charitable  oblivion  to  others'  defects ;  the 
abundant  vestments  of  Christ-like  forgiveness. 

He  remained  until  over  the  blue-gray  sky  slowly  dawned  a 
starless  night,  and  never  once  was  he  silent.  He  reminded 
Demis  that  she  was  dying,  and  asked  her  if  she  was  not  ap- 
palled at  the  prospect  beyond.  With  a  radiant  smile,  she 
answered  "  no." 

"  What  blind  levity  !"  exclaimed  the  zealot.  u  How  can 
you  face  your  God  ?"  She  turned  towards  him  as  if  she 
would  speak,  but  remained  silent.  His  cold  eyes  lighted 
with  a  vengeful  gleam.  "  Go  !  then,"  he  exclaimed,  "  and 
find  out,  when  too  late,  that  there  exists  both  a  heaven 
and  a  hell."  He  rose  and  shook  himself.  What  insane  fury 
prompted  him  to  advance  close,  close  to  her  side,  and  shout, 
with  uplifted  hand,  as  if  venting  a  malediction  :  "  Before  the 
Most  High  I  swear  I  am"  clear  of  your  blood.  I  have  done 
my  duty.  Be  it  upon  thine  own  head."  Then,  without  even 
a  farewell  look,  he  seized  his  hat  and  departed.  As  -his 
slouched  hat  vanished  through  the  door-way,  I  turned  to  look 
at  Demis  :  she  had  fainted. 


RUBIXA.  317 

"  It's  a  burnin'  shame  and  disgrace,"  said  Deborah,  as  we 
laid  her  in  bed,  and  applied  restoratives  to  her  white  lips ; 
"  a  keepin'  this  sick  child  up  three  mortal  hours  a  list'uin'  to 
sech  truck  as  that.  If  he  darkens  the  door  ag'in,  I'll  give  him 
a  piece  o'  my  mind  that  he'll  remember  one  spell ;  that's 
what  I  will.  I  ain't  afraid  o'  the.  whole  boodle  on  'em.  Got 
his  high-heeled  shoes  on.  Humph !  lie  ought  to  have  a 
guardeen  put  over  him."  She  dropped  into  a  chair  and  fold- 
ed up  her  knitting  with  an  angry  jerk  that  made  the  needles 
fly  out,  and  the  ravelling  stitches  form  a  closer  acquaintance. 
"  There  now  !"  she  said  spitefully,  surveying  it  in  some  dis- 
may, "  see  that,  don't  ye  ?  That's  all  b'cause  he  come  here 
and  got  me  so  riled  up.  It'll  take  the  whole  blessed  eveuin' 
to  pick  'em  up  ;  and  my  sight  ain't  so  good  as  'twas  once, 
nuther.  I  hain't  no  patience  with  none  on  'em,"  she  exclaim- 
ed, wrathfully. 

Either  the  unusual  mental  excitement  of  the  afternoon's 
talk,  or  the  prolonged  physical  exertion  of  keeping  up, 
proved  too  much  for  our  dear  invalid.  A  ghastly  pallor 
succeeded  the  hectic  glow,  and  she  lay  completely  ex- 
hausted. But  nature  might  revive.  Uncle  Joel's  distressed 
look  and  anxious  inquiries  were  not  to  be  borne ;  at  tea  I 
sent  them  all  away,  and  remained  alone  with  her.  Tears 
rose  involuntarily,  as  I  surveyed  the  change  a  few  hours  had 
wrought.  As  if  she  read  my  thought,  she  opened  her  deep, 
dark  eyes,  and  looked  at  me,  pityingly.  "  Dear  Ruby,"  she 
faintly  whispered,  "  don't  weep  for  me.  He  does  not  share 
my  belief,  but  that  is  of  no  consequence ;  I  shall  meet  him 
in  heaven  yet.  What  will  make  his  happiness  there,  may 
not  make  mine ;  but  we  shall  all  be  gathered  into  the  .same 
fold,  close  to  the  Infinite  heart.  One  pattern  of  the  robe- of 
righteousness  will  not  fit  every  soul,  but  all  stall  be  equally 


318  RUBINA. 

clothed  and  satisfied."  Olive  here  came  in  to  say  good-night. 
Her  bonnet  tied,  she  was  slowly  fitting  on  her  gloves,  as  she 
stood  by  the  bedside.  Demis  motioned  her  to  stoop.  "  Don't 
go,"  she  whispered  faintly,  her  eye  brightening  into  a  con- 
tented smile  as  Olive  removed  her  bonnet.  Then  she  lay  mo- 
tionless, except  her  eyes,  which  roved  wistfully  from  Olive's 
face  to  mine,  and  one  small  hand  nervously  clutching  the  bed- 
clothes. Then  they  turned  lingeringly  to  every  object  in  the 
room,  as  if  seeking  to  faithfully  impress  their  familiar  out- 
lines on  her  failing  memory  ....  Through  the  open 
door  to  the  kitchen  came  the  familiar  household  sounds  : 
the  rustle  of  the  newspaper  and  the  jingle  of  the  snufter- 
tray,  as  Uncle  Joel  drew  out  the  little  light-stand,  and  settled 
comfortably  for  the  evening's  reading ;  the  brisk  patter  of 
Aunt  Rhoda's  feet — never  hushed  by  sympathy  with  suffer- 
ing— bustling  around  the  room,  intent  on  her  usual  cares  of 
"  setting  to  rights  "  the  disturbed  elements  of  housewifery 
for  the  night ;  Dwight's  heavy  tread,  as  he  tied  on  his  com- 
forter and  searched  fruitlessly  for  his  missing  hat,  preparatory 
to  a  walk  to  "  the  village ;"  and  Debby  who,  as  she  briskly 
washed  the  dishes,  sang  to  their  pleasant  clatter  a  solemn 
accompaniment : 

"  Judge  not  the  Lord  by  feeble  sense, 

But  trust  him  for  his  grace ; 
Behind  a  frowning  Providence, 
He  hides  a  smiling  face." 

Divine  words  which  have  soothed  many  a  sorrow  !  De- 
mis's  eyes  lighted  with  serene  joy,  as  the  solemn  measure 
rolled  through  the  room.  She  put  forth  her  hand  and  essay- 
ed to  rise.  I  bent  over  and  partially  lifted  her.  "  Why,  when 
did  Natty  come  home,  Ruby  ?  He  is  here  !"  she  whispered, 
exultantly;  and  fell  back  suddenly  upon  the  pillow — tho 


KUBINA.  319 

crimson  life-tide  surging  in  a  torrent  from  her  pale,  parted 
lips.  She  looked  in  my  face  with  beseeching  eyes.  I  could 
not  comprehend  the  glance,  but  as  I  held  the  napkins  to  her 
mouth  I  pointed  to  the  door.  "  Should  1  summon  the  house- 
hold ?"  She  feebly  shook  her  head.  Then  I  flung  my  arms 
around  her  and  buried  my  face  by  hers  in  the  pillow.  Oh, 
precious  moments,  wasting  fast !  life  ebbing  from  our  loved 
one's  only  strand  ;  our  remaining  selves  fast  on  the  shores  of 
vain  regret  and  Jonging !  In  that  fast  embrace  I  sought  still 
to  bind  her  life  to  its  earthly  tenement.  The  vista  of  sepa- 
ration had  seemed  immeasurably  removed  before  :  this  sud- 
den shortening  of  the  distance  was  cruel,  cruel ;  and  the  sobs, 
so  long  repressed  for  her  'dear  sake,  burst  forth  loud,  long, 
and  vehement. 

The  rest  is  borne  in  upon  mv  mind  like  a  lightning  flash. 
It  was  so  swift,  so  sudden — she  turned  her  cheek  to  mine' 
Avith  a  fond  movement,  and  held  forth  her  hand  to  Olive,  who 
knelt  sobbing  by  the  bedside.  Then  Olive  hastily  rose  and 
forced  me  away ;  for  the  hand  had  grown  icy  in  her  clasp. 
This,  this  was  death. 

Olive  stole  gently  to  the  kitchen  and  informed  the  family. 
A  pause  of  several  minutes  followed;  to  me  it  seemed 
an  age.  Deborah  then  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and  set 
up  an  agonized  moaning.  Aunt  Khoda  remained  calm  as 
marble,  and  began  speaking  at  once  of  the  necessary  last  sad 
preparations,  which  brought  to  my  recollections,  as  if  it  were 
but  yesterday,  the  scene  of  my  early  orphanage.  She  dis- 
pa.tched  poor  Dwight — who  stood  rooted  to  the  door  with 
awe — for  assistance.  He  came  to  me,  and  in  a  faint  tremu- 
lous whisper,  inquired  "  who  he  should  get?" 

"  If  you  don't  mind  the  long  ride,  I  wish  Miss  Sinai  would 
come,"  I  answered ;  and  he  turned  away,  treading  on  tiptoe, 


320  KUBINA. 

as  if  to  avoid  waking  the  silent  form,  never,  alas!  to  rouse 
from  this  dreamless  slumber.  Dear  Urrcle  Joel  was  almost 
paralyzed.  He  had  not  realized  how  near  the  shadow  had 
so  long  lingered :  its  descent  found  him  unprepared. 

"  Her  life  was  brief,"  murmured  Sinai,  as  we  stood  alone, 
late  in  that  night-watch  by  the  shrouded  form.  "  She  was 
young  to  die  !" 

"  Oh,  dear,  dear  Sinai,  it  will  kill  me  !"  1  sobbed  and  panted 
hopelessly.  "Why  can  I  not  die  too,  and  go  with  her? 
This  life  is  so  long ; — so  long  to  live  without  her  !" 

"Be  comforted,  dear  child,"  she  rejoined,  soothingly. 
"This  life  is  brief  at  the  longest.  Ah!  Ruby,  by  such 
tender  cords  of  looking  and  longing  for  our  lost  treasures, 
our  Father  seeks  to  draw  us  into  the  path  of  holy  effort. 
You  shall  go  to  her — she  will  wait  for  you  there — in  His  own 
good  time.  You,  who  were  inseparable  in  your  lives,  shall 
not  be  divided  in  death.  See  how  peacefully  she  slumbers, 
with  the  seal  of  the  Divine  covenant  resting  lightly  on  her 
brow." 

Standing  face  to  face  with  a  dying  or  dead  friend,  how 
vividly  all  their  beliefs,  maxims,  advice,  and  tenderness — 
manifested  in  a  thousand  ways,  and  before  unappreciated — 
crowd  upon  our  consciousness !  They  seem  more  individual- 
ized, as  it  were,  by  this  approach  to  the  Eternal :  photo- 
graphing, in  these  few  moments  of  intensity,  their  moral 
shape  upon  our  memories,  to  remain  with  us  forever.  Now, 
Dcmis's  bright  faith  flashed  into  my  comprehension,  as  some- 
thing altogether  new  ;  and  as  something  strangely  real,  true, 
comforting.  And,  as  if  a  similar  intuition — too  vague  to  be 
called  a  thought — entered  into  Miss  Sinai's  mind,  she  said — 
and  with  ear  and  mind  tuned  akin  to  this  suddenly  developed 
relation,  her  voice  sounded  like  a  musical  echo  of  Demis's 


RUBINA.  321 

own — "  Oh !  my  dearest  Ruby,  let  us  cease  to  mourn,  and 
give  joy ;  joy,  that  the  life-struggle  is  brief,  else  would  our 
footsteps  falter,  and  the  crown  of  thorns  press  too  heavily, 
ofttimes,  on  our  bleeding  brows.  One  truth  glows  in  the 
moral  firmament  with  a  quenchless  fire.  Not  all  the  cold, 
dry  dogmas  which  clumsily  stalk  earth's  highways,  can 
abate  one  whit  its  genial  heat,  or  dim  its  eternal  shine. 
'  God  is  love  !'  " 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  little  white  church,  with  its  quaint  diamond-paned 
windows  and  square  high-backed  pews,  was  crowded  with 
sympathizing  friends  and  neighbors,  the  afternoon  of  the 
third  day  following  ;  for  Demis  had  been  a  universal  favorite. 
All  loved  her  frank  cheery  face  and  truthful  ways,  and  all 
mourned  her  sincerely.  Groups  of  young  girls  had  filled 
the  house,  after  hearing  the  sad  tidings,  bringing  buds  and 
flowers  from  cherished  house-plants,  to  lay  on  the  pulseless 
breast.  Mark  arrived  from  Chispa,  almost  broken-hearted 
that  he  had  not  been  summoned  before.  Amanda,  who 
came  down  to  stay,  broke  out  of  her  usual  lethargy,  and 
wept  spasmodically,  whenever  a  fresh  band  of  neighbors 
arrived — calming  into  a  resigned  expression  immediately 
after  their  departure.  Annah,  poor  child,  refused  all  com- 
fort :  she  would  climb  upon  the  bed,  and  wind  her  small 
arms  around  the  cold  form,  while  she  poured  forth  the 
most  heart-rending  cries.  "She  fretted  herself  quite  111,  and 
on  the  day  of  the  funeral  looked  so  weak  and  pallid  that  I 
left  her  at  home,  Miss  Sinai  volunteering  to  remain  and 
keep  her  company. 
14* 


322  RUBIXA. 

I  was  surprised  to  see  Elder  Love  in  the  pulpit;  it  was  ai: 
unusual  custom  for  the  minister  of  one  denomination,  to 
preach  from  the  desk  of  another.  Elder  Fuller  chose  a 
seat  below,  after  reading  a  beautiful  Psalm  from  David.  Mr. 
Love  then  rose,  and  solemnly  announced,  as  his  text, 
Psalm  vii.,  12.  "If  he  turn  not,  He  will  whet  His  sword  : 
he  hath  bent  his  bow,  and  made  it  ready."  Strange,  stern 
resolve  slept  in  his  eye,  and  twitched  the  muscles  of 
his  mouth,  as  he  proceeded.  He  pictured,  in  emphatic  lan- 
guage and  terrific  tones,  the  awful  meaning  lurking  in  these 
words.  He  held  up  before  us  the  merciful  long-suffering  of 
the  Judge  of  all  the  earth,  and  endeavored  to  define  its  limit ; 
then,  in  graphic  tones,  the  whetting  of  His  anger  and  the 
extinction  of  its  object.  Then  he  applied  this  text  to  the 
case  of  the  deceased.  She  had  been  unusually  favored  with 
counsel,  with  timely  warnings  of  her  dangerous  course;  but 
she  gave  them  no  heed.  Instead,  she  had  laughed  and  ex- 
ulted with  thoughtless  gayety  on  the  very  brink  of  death. 
The  child  of  many  prayers,  she  yet  scorned  praver,  and 
clung  madly  to  the  rotten  plank  of  good  works  for  finding 
acceptance  with  her  Saviour.  Of  the  existence  of  faith — 
without  which,  we  cannot  be  saved— she  had  no  practical 
knowledge.  She  sat  in  the  seat  of  the  scorner,  and  walked 
in  the  ways  of  the  ungodly.  "  My  friends,"  he  uttered,  in  a 
hoarse  whisper,  "  do  you  know  her  fate  ?"  Not  a  soul  stirred 
among  the  throng  but  Mark,  who  half  rose,  his  face  of  ashen 
hue;  bnt  remembering  himself,  pank  back  again  in  his  seat. 
"  Do  you  know  her  fate  ?"  he  impressively  repeated,  rolling 
those  cold  orbs  above,  as  though  he  saw  there,  in  ti-rrildc! 
rcalitv,  her  doom.  "  Much  as  I  would  like  to  say  something 
consoling  to  this  stricken  group ;  much  as  I  would  like  to 
pronounce  a  eulogy  on  the  dead,,  yet,  for  the  sake  of  the 


RUBINA.  323 

living  impenitent  young,  I  must  speak  the  truth.  I  do 
know  her  fate.  I  see  her  knocking  at  the  gates  of  the  New 
Jerusalem,  in  vain,  in  vain  !  My  friends,  her  virtues  carry 
her  there;  she.  had  many;  you  all  loved  her.  These  sobs, 
now  convulsing  you,  all  attest  that  fact.  Weep  then  for  her 
freely ;  weep  for  her  sad  end,  for  she  has  no  passport  with 
which  to  enter  the  Father's  mansions,  and  the  angel  at  the 
gate  admits  no  soul  without  one.  You  will  ask,  What  then, 
is  a  passport  to  future  bliss  ?  I  answer,  to  be  baptized  and 
believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  There  is  none  other. 
Nay,  ere  she  can  even  petition  for  entrance,  the  demons 
seize  her,  with  shrieks  of  delight.  Just  like  this," — he  low- 
ered his  eyes,  and  turned  to  the  doors  of  entrance,  on  either 
side  of  the  pulpit, — "  one  door  is  heaven ;  the  other,  hell. 
She  is  at  the  gate  of  heaven,  but  the  infernal  host  are  not 
to  be  baulked  of  their  prey.  One  demon  seizes  her;  the 
clutch  is  eternal ;  then  another.  She  is  surrounded  by  the 
satanic  army,  amid  unavailing  repentance  and  cries  for  help. 
My  hearers,  do  you  now  ask  where  she  is?  I  will  tell  you;" 
— slowly  and  with  emphasis — "  there  is  no  intermediate  state 
between  the  abode  of  the  saints  in  glory,  and  the  regions  of  the 
lost.  She  disappears  through  the  other  door,  where,  from 
the  awful,  unsounded  depths  arises  weeping,  wailing,  and 
gnashing  of  teeth,  forever  and  forever  !  Oh  !  the  agony,  the 
fearful  agony  of  '  the  second  death  !'  Souls  that  are  immortal, 
pause  ere  it  be  too  late  !  Reflect,  or  a  like  doom  awaits 
you  !" 

There  followed  more,  in  the  self-same  style,  I  suppose,  for 
of  it  I  heard  not  one  word.  My  eveballs  seemed  flame ;  my 
mind  in  a  helpless  chaos  of  apathetic,  revengeful  fury.  Had  I 
possessed  the  requisite  physical  power,  I  believe  I  should 
have  deliberately  risen,  walked  up  the  narrow  pulpit  stairs, 


324  RTJBINA. 

and  with  one  blow  hurled  him  from  the  sacred  height,  defiled 
by  his  presence.  Then,  smitten  by  this  thought  of  inability, 
I  looked  round  icily  on  the  tear-stained  pallid  faces,  and  for 
a  moment  hated  them  for  their  quiescence.  Never  before 
had  I  experienced  in  such  dread  intensity,  the  fell  passions 
of  eternal  hatred  and  revenge ;  but  they  burned  into  my  heart's 
core,  there  searing  a  ghastly  wound,  easy  enough  since  to  re- 
open. "  This,  then,"  I  bitterly  reflected,  while  his  unholy  tirade 
went  on  triumphantly,  "  is  your  mean  retaliation  for  her  calm 
indifference  to  your  proselyting  zeal.  A  spiteful  tincture  of 
the  pit  you  so  strongly  anathematize,  could  alone  give  it 
birth.  Elder  Fuller,  though  zealous  for  additions  to  the 
Church,  could  never  feel  it !  Ah !  sanctified  clothing  will 
not  prevent  Satan's  claiming  his  own  in  due  season."  As  the 
reading  of  the  last  hymn  proceeded,  a  violent  trembling  of  the 
seat  roused  me  from  my  revery.  I  turned  to  look.  Uncle 
Joel's  face  was  crimson  from  suppressed  emotion ;  but  he 
grasped  the  seat  firmly  and  restrained  himself.  Would  you 
have  the  hymn  ?  It  was  this :  incredible  as  it  may  seem  to 
your  more  Christian  ears.  With  slow,  deliberate  earnestness 
he  gave  it  out :  "  Hymn  50.  To  the  old  proper  tune.  Pause 
the  First : 

*• '  I  am  the  Saviour  I    I,  th'  Almighty  God  I 
I  am  the  Judge !  ye  heavens  proclaim  abroad 
My  just,  eternal  sentence,  and  declare 
Those  awful  truths  that  sinners  dread  to  heart* 
When  God  appears,  all  nature  shall  adore  him  1 
While  sinners  tremble,  saints  rejoice  before  him. 

1  Stand  forth  thou  bold  blasphemer,  and  profane, 
Now  feel  my  wrath,  nor  call  my  threatenings  vain. 
Thou  hypocrite  1  once  dressed  in  saints'  attire ; 
I  doom  thee,  painted  hypocrite,  to  fire  I' 


RUBUSTA.  325 

Judgment  proceeds :  hell  trembles !  heaven  rejoices  I 
Lift  up  your  heads,  ye  saints,  with  cheerful  voices. 

'  Behold  my  terrors  now ;  my  thunders  roll, 
And  thy  own  crimes  affright  thy  guilty  soul ! 
Now,  like  a  lion  shall  my  vengeance  tear 
Thy  bleeding-  heart,  and  no  deliverer  near.' 
Judgment  concludes  •  hell  trembles !  heaven  rejoices  I 
Lift  up  your  heads,  ye  saints,  with  cheerful  voices." 

Profound  silence  followed.  To  the  credit  of  the  choir  be 
it  spoken,  they  unanimously  refused  to  sing  it.  Deinis  had 
been  the  leading  singer  there  for  years;  her  sweet  voice 
waking  vibrations  of  harmony,  which  they  caught  and  re- 
peated. Not  one  among  them  but  was  weeping  for  the 
vacant  place,  draped  in  crape.  The  viol  leaned  mournfully 
by  the  side  of  its  bass  fellow ;  their  strings  mute  and  indig- 
nant. Elder  Fuller  broke  the  pause — dreadful  in  its  intensi- 
fied misery — by  reading  calmly  a  more  appropriate  hymn, 
and  the  services  concluded  by  lowering  the  cold  form  into 
the  colder  earth. 

"  Dear  me,"  exclaimed  Miss  Sinai,  in  dismay,  as  we  re- 
entered  the  shadowed  dwelling,  "  what  is  the  matter?  You 
all  look  strangely." 

No  one  replied.  Deborah  beckoned  her  aside,  and  a  low 
whispering  succeeded,  broken  occasionally  by  angry  inter- 
jectional  phrases.  In  truth,  we  looked  a  stern  band  of 
mourners ;  not  an  eye  closed  in  slumber  that  night  in  the  old 
farm-house.  Uncle  Joel  sobbed,  and  wrung  his  old  withered 
hands  nervously.  "  I  never  would  a  thought  it,"  he  said 
again  and  again ;  "  I  can't  walk  with  such  a  church  no  longer." 
Strange  to  say,  Aunt  Rhoda  alone  maintained  its  truth.  "  1 
believe  it,"  she  •  said,  firmly  ;  "  it's  good  orthodox  doctrine, 
it's  only  because  it  comes  hum  so  plain,  that  you  don't  lit*, 


326  RTJBINA. 

it,  Joel.  If  it  had  been  one  of  our  neighbor's  children  now, 
you  know  you'd  a  said  nothin'  agin'  it." 

"Yes,  I  should,  too,"  he  rejoined,  mildly;  "common  hu- 
manity'd  set  me7  agin'  scch  talk."  Aunt  Rhoda  pursed  up 
her  mouth  into  a  most  decided  expression,  and  shook  her 
head  slowly,  to  intimate  that  she  was  not  disposed  to  argue 
the  point ;  but  she  should  hold  positively  to  her  first  opin- 
ions. "  Wall,"  sobbed  her  softer-hearted  husband,  "  I  want 
to  go  where  our  children  go,  Rhody.  I  shouldn't  take  a  mite 
o'  comfort  singing  praises  onless  they  was  all  round  me  too. 
Should  you,  Rhody  ?" 

"  Yes,"  she  declared,  unwaveringly  ;  "  I  don't  think  'twill 
make  a  bit  of  difference  to  our  happiness.  We  shall  overcome 
earthly  feelings  when  we  leave  the  body.  I'm  afraid,  Mr. 
Martin,"  she  added,  severely,  "  you  hain't  experienced  the 
right  kind  o'  religion  after  all,  or  else  you're  backslidin'.  It's 
high  time  you'se  up  and  workin'  in  the  Lord's  vin'yard,  lest 
the  enemy  of  unbelief  git  in  and  spile  the  good  crops.  I  hope 
these  girls'll  reflect  on't  too.  It's  a  lesson  to  them"  she 
added,  turning  to  me. 

Mark  paced  the  kitchen  through  the  live-long  night,  never 
pausing  to  heed  the  fragments  of  controversy  floating  around- 
However,  he  heard  this  conjugal  debate ;  and,  as  if  his  mind 
had  suddenly  decided  a  vexed  question,  with  a  look  of  relief 
and  angry  scorn,  he  wheeled  in  front  of  his  mother.  "  Is  that 
your  belief,  and  the  creed  of  your  church  ?  By  heavens,  I 
abjure  it  utterly!  I  wonder  the  judgments  you  are  so  fond 
of  talking  about  don't  fall  and  destroy  such  scandalous 
mockery  !"  he  cried,  passionately.  "  I  tell  you  that  I  de- 
nounce it,  and  renounce  it  utterly.  If  there  is  a  heaven  and 
saints  in  it,  my  sister  is  there !  Sweet  soul !  She  never 
wronged  a  worm.  I  say  with  my  father,  I  go  with  her  hand 


RUBIN  A.  327 

in  hand,  wherever  that  may  be.  Now,  hear  my  d  ft1  ib  orate 
conclusion  :  for  your  sake,  my  mother,  I  have  renounced 
my  own  wishes ;  suppressed  every  rising  inclination,  and 
adopted  your  own.  I  would  have  labored  cheerfully  on  that 
account  for  the  conversion  of  souls,  but  you  say  thin  is  the  in- 
fernal doctrine  I  must  preach,  for  I  have  sworn  assent  to  it  in 
the  creed  of  the  church.  I  tell  you  no  !" — here  Debby  inter- 
posed to  stop  him,  but  he  roughly  pushed  her  away,  and  re- 
sumed with  gathering  wrath  :  ''  I  renounce  such  assent  forever. 
I  renounce  the  ministry  forever.  I  renounce  home  forever. 
I  renounce  your  heaven  forever  and  ever  and  ever."  His 
mother  grew  pale  as  death.  Never  had  I  seen  her  so  shaken. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  sir  ?"  she  demanded,  hoarsely. 

"  I  mean,  madam,  that  in  a  week  from  to-night  I  hope  to 
be  beyond  the  reach  of  these  detestable  influences.  I  hope 
to  be  my  own  master.  I  will  not  again  change  my  mind,"  he 
said,  firmly. 

"  And  Olive  ?"  I  timidly  questioned. 

"  My  cousin,"  he  answered,  "  she  doubtless  believes  this  in- 
fernal sermon  It  will  break  our  engagement.  I  cannot  help 
it.  I  shall  be  sorry,  but  there  are  things  even  worse  than 
that"  he  cried,  desperately.  "  Oh !  is  there  no  sanctity,  no 
rest  for  the  dead,  that  they  must  be  jostled  so  roughly  ?  How 
many  themes  for  warning  discourses  will  this  one  affliction 
furnish  to  your  ministers,  mother  ?"  He  laughed  hysterically, 
and  resumed  his  walk.  Aunt  Rhoda  leaned  her  head  thought- 
fully on  her  hand  and  made  no  reply.  Uncle  Joel  groaned 
heavily.  Mark  went  up  to  him,  looking  almost  penitent : 

k/ 1  forgot  you,  father.  Can  you  forgive  me  for  disappoint- 
ing your  hopes  ?" 

"  My  son  ;  my  well-beloved  son.  You're  all  leaving  me," 
he  whispered  brokenly.  "But,  ' go  thy  way  in  peace.'  It 


328  RUBINA. 

would  have  rejoiced  my  old  heart  to  have  heard  you  preach- 
in'  the  word  ;  but  not  such  doctrine  as  that.  No,  no  !" 

The  succeeding  day  was  irksome  in  the  extreme.  The 
dull  hours  crept  lifelessly  away,  in  our  vain  attempts  to 
quicken  their  flight.  Mark  went  up  to  Mr.  Pierce's  in  the 
afternoon,  and  did  not  return  until  dark.  Peborah  went 
about  her  work  much  as  usual,  ever  and  anon  humming  in  a 
mournful  tone,  some  chance  fragment  of  a  funeral  hymn. 
As  the  early  twilight  of  winter  fell,  I  crept  into  the  keeping- 
room — deserted  now,  and  silent :  the  useless  bed  removed  ; 
the  odor  of  medicine  vanished.  The  room  had  been 
thoroughly  fumigated  that  day  ;  put  into  cleanly  primness, 
and  shut  up,  as  though  haunted.  As  I  sat  in  the  darkness, 
by  the  newly  kindled  fire,  Mark  entered. 

"  Ah  !"  he  said,  gloomily  dropping  into  a  chair,  "  I  thought 
I  should  find  you  here.  You  are  not  afraid  of  sitting  in  this 
dear  room  ;  you  don't  shun  it." 

"Well!  and  how  fared  your  visit?"  I  tried  to  speak 
cheerfully. 

He  sighed.  "Oh,  just  as  I  expected.  I  was  received 
cordially  enough  at  first"  laughing  sarcastically,  "  but  the 
tune  changed  quickly,  when  I  broached  my  change  of  pur- 
po.se.  So  be  it,  Ruby.  I  have  got  over  caring  much  for 
any  thing." 

"  I  hope  not,  Mark !  But  tell  me  about  it.  Did  they  up- 
braid you  ?" 

"  No.  I  was  prepared  for  a  pretty  stormy  scene,  but  not 
for  cold  indifference.  Ruby,  it  cut  me  to  the  heart ;  then  I 
got  angry."  We  hate  people  for  cutting  us,  albeit  the 
thrust  is  unconsciously  given.  "  I  wanted  to  see  Olive  alono, 
but  her  mother  vetoed  that  measure  ;  I  suppose  she  thought 
I  should  try  to  make  her  run  away  with  me.  Well,  it  is  all 


.RUBINA.  329 

ended.  .That  crazy  girl  shook  her  fist  in  my  face,  and  called 
me  '  one  of  the  ungodly,'  and  the  rest,  '  hoped  I  would 
do  well.'  Won't  I,  though  ?"  he  rejoined,  enthusiastically, 
straightening  his  manly  form,  and  tossing  back  the  cluster- 
ing locks  from  his  noble  forehead.  The  faco.  always  frank 
and  truthful,  looked  the  better  for  its  new  shade  of  sad, 
thoughtful  serenity.  "  I  love  the  sea,"  he  murmured.  "  I 
have  lain  many  a  night,  dreaming  of  its  music.  I  like  stories 
of  sailors  too,  bluff  and  hearty ;  I  tell  you,  Ruby,  there  is 
nothing  like  it." 

I  shook  my  head.  "I  don't  know.  There  are  many 
things  I  should  like  better." 

"Oh!"  he  started,  as  if  suddenly  recollecting.  "What 
are  your  plans  for  the  future,  Ruby  ?  or  have  you  none,  as  yet  ?" 

"  No  plans,  Mark ;  only  crude  cogitations,  and,  they  may 
develop  into  nothing  more.  I  wish  I  could  leave  North- 
field  !"  Spite  of  my  effort,  this  burst  forth  fretfully. 

"  Where  would  you  go,  Ruby  ?"  he  said,  in  surprise. 

"  Where  ?  I  don't  know.  The  world  is  large  enough.  I 
must  see  before  I  can  tell.  Fate  and  I  must  have  a  hand-to- 
hand  conflict.  Why  not  begin  ?"  He  did  not  understand 
me.  How  could  he  ?  I  forced  back  the  rising  flood — was.it 
destined  to  forever  lie  dormant  ? — with  a  keen  sense  of  pain. 
At  what?  Why,  I  could  never  have  told  you,  had  sym- 
pathy's k^py  been  lacking  in  your  hands.  I  felt ;  I  did  not 
reason.  Then  I  managed  to  calmly  return  to  the  broken 
theme.  "  When  do  you  go,  Mark  ?"  I  said. 

"  I  have  sent  in  to  the  conference,  at  Chispa,  a  brief  ac- 
count of  my  altered  purposes,  and  I  expect  a  reply  to-mor- 
row, probably  a  stern  decree  of  banishment.  Then  I  shall 
leave  immediately." 

He  did  not  receive  the  expected  missive  the  next  day ; 


330  KUBINA. 

nor  y.et  the  next.     On  the  morning  of  the  third,  he  told  me 
that  it  was  all  as  he  had  predicted. 

.  "  I  have  no  idea  of  stealing  off  without  bidding  you  good- 
by,"  he  said ;  "  but  it  is  better  that  my  parents  should 
not  know;  and  Debby  too.  Poor  soul!  she  would  go 
frantic,  and  might  break  my  good  resolves.  1  shall  go,  this 
very  night,  to  the  next  station,  and  from  there  take  the  early 
stage  for  the  East.  I  will  knock  at  your  door  before  I  start." 

I  was  a  sound  sleeper  in  those  days,  and  I  resolved  to  sit 
up.  Ere  midnight,  his  low  rap  sounded.  I  opened  quickly. 
He  entered,  bent  over  and  kissed  Annah  softly. 

"  Dear  little  Annah  !  She  looks  pale,  Ruby  ;  take  care  of 
her."  Brave  heart,  that,  in  the  bitterness  of  the  first  real 
home  parting,  found  tender  words  of  care  for  others!  He 
talked  on  fast,  to  appease  the  treacherous  desire  to  weep, 
shown  in  the  trembling  mouth.  "  I  wish,  Ruby,  you  would 
see  that  my  trunk  is  sent  to  this  destination,"  handing  me 
a  slip  of  paper.  "  It  is  quite  ready." 

"  Yes,  dear  Mark.  Is  there  nothing  else  ?"  How  I  wished 
that  he  would  overwhelm  me  with  orders  !  Memory,  thus 
occupied,  might  let  slip  the  coming  pain. 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  he  answered  slowly.  "  You  sec  I  am 
cautious,"  he  held  up  his  boots.  "  I  shall  wait  until  I  get 
outside,  before  I  put  them  on.  Don't  think  of  coming  down 
with  me ;  you  might  wake  Debby."  He  dropped^  his  bun- 
dle, opened  his  arms,  and  gathered  me  to  his  heart,  sobbing, 
in  a  close  embrace  :  "  God  bless,  and  forever  keep  you  from 
all  harm,"  he  murmured,  "for  she  loved  you  !"  Sweet  bene- 
diction, succeeded  by  a  kiss. 

"  Oh,  Mark,  is  it  right  to  go,  after  all  ?     Stay  with  us  ;  we 
shall  be  so  lonely  !"  I  pleaded. 
.  "  It  is  harder  to  go  than  I  thought  for,  Ruby  ;  but  I  will 


RUBINA.  331 

not  change  my  resolve.  Good-by."  As  if  fearful  of  a 
longer  tarry,  he  glided  down  the  dark  staircase.  Bending 
over  the  banisters,  I  saw  him  tread  softly  the  creaking 
boards  of  the  kitchen  in  his  bootless  feet ;  I  heard  the  outer 
door  softly  unlatched,  closed, — and  out  into  the  wintry  mid- 
night went  forth  our  wanderer. 

There  was  a  storm  of  questions  and  reproaches,  the  next 
morning,  when  I  told  them  of  Mark's  departure.  Aunt 
Iihoda  called  him  "  an  ungrateful  brat,"  declaring,  that  her 
"  children  were  turning  out  jest  as  she  allers  expected.  She 
s'posed  'twas  too  strict  to  hum  to  suit."  She  was  too 
angry  to  feel  grieved,  and  tossed  her  head  in  scorn,  at  every 
mention  of  his  name.  Then  Deborah,  with  quivering  lips, 
took  her  up  irefully,  telling  her  decidedly,  that  "  she  had 
driven  him  away  herself.  She  might  blame  her  own  blessed 
self  for  what  had  happened ;  no  one  else  under  the  sun, 
would  a  talked  as  she  did,  that  night ;  'twas  enough  to  rile  a 
saint's  disposition,  to  set  an'  hear  it.  For  her  part,  she 
thought  'twas  a  judgment  on  her." 

Aunt  Rhoda  responded  bitterly,  and  an  angry  scene  en- 
sued between  the  two.  "  I've  borne  with  your  insolence 
long  enough,"  she  said,  with  pale  lips.  "  You'd  make  an 
underlin'  of  me  in  my  own  house;  or,  p'raps  you  think  I 
ain't  mistress.  You're  allers  a  talkin'  'bout  your  children. 
I've  said  it  now,  and  I  mean  it." 

"  I'm  sure  I'm  only  too  thankful  to  go,"  retorted  Debby. 
"  There's  not  much  to  stay  for,  and  ev'ry  thin's  gittin'  wuss 
and  wuss.  There's  plenty  that'd  jump  at  the  chance  o' 
gittin'  me  to  work  for  'em.  To  think  a  mother  should  have 
no  more  feelin'  for  her  own  flesh  an'  blood — "  Debby 
broke  short  off,  in  piteous  tears.  "  To  think  you  should  be 
jealous  of  me  too  !" 


332  KUBINA. 

Aunt  Rhoda  replied ;  but,  in  the  middle  of  her  harangue, 
her  meek  husband  for  once  interposed  :  "  I  wish  you'd  stop. 
This  ain't  suitable  talk  for  children  to  hear.  Dwight,  if 
you've  finished  your  breakfast,  you'd  better  go  and  see  after 
the  cows.  Ruby,  you'd  better  take  Anny  up  stairs."  I 
obeyed ;  but,  as  I  crossed  the  room,  I  heard  him  say,  deci- 
sively, "  Deb'rah  ain't  goin'  away.  Say  no  more  'bout  that" 
"What  more  was  said  I  know  not ;  but  for  a  full  hour  the 
sound  of  mingled  voices  reached  me ;  now  sunk  to  a  mur- 
muring key,  anon  raised  in  sharp,  sudden  tones  of  contra- 
diction. 

Mark's  trunk  was  sent  according  to  directions.  Deb- 
by  unstrapped  it ;  privately  hunting  the  house  over  for  a 
key  to  fit  its  lock.  Then  she  repaired  to  the  neighbors ; 
finally  successful,  she  opened  it,  and  after  indulging  in  a 
hearty  cry  tiver  the  vision  it  revealed — a  scant  wardrobe  and 
his  books — she  dexterously  set  to  work,  filling  every  vacant 
corner  with  cakes — crowding  down  and  pressing  together 
with  her  broad  palms — so  that,  when  her  labor  was  fairly 
ended,  the  trunk's  surface  revealed  a  curious  mosaic  of  clothes, 
books,  cakes,  and  pastry.  "  There  !  that'll  do  his  eyes  good, 
I  guess,  when  he  sees  it,"  she  pronounced,  in  a  tone  of  grati- 
fication. "  He'll  know  who  had  a  hand  in  it,  right  off"; 
but  won't  he  wonder  how  I  got  into  it.  I'll  bet  a  copper 
he'll  have  a  crying  spell  over  it !"  And,  fairly  overcome  by 
this  probability,  she  sat  herself  down  with  considerable 
effort  on  the  floor  beside  it,  and  recommenced  sobbing. 

"  Don't  you  tell  Mis'  Martin  'bout  this  ere  business,  Ruby. 
She'd  take  my  head  off  for'zi  know ;  but  Mr.  Martin  pro- 
vides, so  I  don't  feel  as  if  I's  doiu'  anythin'  out  the  way." 
She  wiped  her  eyes,  with  a  resigned  expression  of  duty,  and 
briskly  shut  down  the  lid.  "  Oh !  Ruby,"  she  began,  dole- 


KUBINA.  333 

fully,  "  I  Laint  no  gift  nor  nothin'  these  days.  I  don't  git 
cast  down  once  in  a  dog's  age,  but  somehow  latterly — ." 
She  broke  off,  as  a  sudden  thought  crossed  this  train,  to  say, 
"  I  guess  Jesse  Warner's  goin'  to  hire  you  this  season  to 
keep  school  ag'in.  Miss  Charity  ain't  rugged  'nough  yit. 
What  a  sight  o'  trouble  that  fam'ly  sees.  If  there  ever  was 
a  saint  o»  earth  it's  that  Miss  Siny.  She's  a  proper  hand 
when  one's  in  trouble  to  make  'em  feel  contented.  I  b'lieve 
she'd  say  'twas  the  Lord's  will,  and  marvellous  in  our  sight, 
if  ev'ry  friend  she  had  should  up  and  die,  and  the  house  be 
burnt  over  her  head,  int'the  bargain.  I  don'  know  but  it's 
wicked,  but  I've  often  thought,  what  a  good  wife  she'd  a 
made  for  Job.  'Taint  often  two  such  patient  souls  git 
together." 

"  I  wish  I  could  board  with  them,"  I  remarked,  thought- 
fully. 

"Who?  Job  and  Siny?" — she  shook  with  laughter — 
•'  Law,  Ruby.  I  ain't  a  fool.  I  know  what  you  meant,  and 
I'll  speak  to  Jess  'bout  it.  He  said  you  could  have  a 
stiddy  boardin'  place.  I  heerd  him." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THERE  are  moments  in  our  lives  of  dreary  suspense ;  of 
uncertain  ignorance  of  our  future — a  crisis,  as  it  were — 
ready,  yet  reluctant,  to  break  the  hateful  cords  pf  monotony 
binding  us  to  a  seeming  present  necessity.  I  trudged  home 
from  Mr.  Warner's  one  night,  only  to  feel  a  vague  sense  of 
this,  instead  of  the  anticipated  joyous  welcome.  Desolate 
looked  the  wintry  landscape  under  the  gray  enveloping  sky. 


334  KUBINA. 

Greybaul  towered  stern  and  gloomy,  in  a  thick  sliroud,  above 
the  low  farm-house.  No  signs  of  life  were  visible;  not  even 
a  cat  ran  across  the  yard,  or  a  discontented  hen  showed 
itself  at  the  open  barn-door ;  only  a  faint  wreath  of  blue 
smoke  exhaled  from  the  mammoth  chimneys,  and  a  light  in 
the  kitchen,  like  a  beacon  star,  guided  me  to  its  door.  Yet 
it  seemed  cheerful,  compared  with  the  atmosphere  within. 

"  Yes,"  said  Debby,  when  we  were  alone  together,  "  Anny 
can't  stir  but  what  it's  :  '  Make  less  noise,  can't  you  ?  You're 
enough  to  craze  a  nation.'  She's  tied  right  down  to  work  the 
whole  livelong  time — what  for?  massy  only  knows;  I  don't. 
Between  you  and  me,  Ruby,  it  seems  as  though  Mis'  Martin 
grew  peakeder  and  peakeder  ev'ry  day.  She  can't  put  up 
with  nothin' ;  and  Anny  breaks  out  a  singin'  'fore  she  thinks. 
I  can  see  it  don't  set  the  best  kind  on  her  stomach.  Then 
she  don't  like  stents  over  'n  above  board  (I  don't  blame 
her,  nuther) ;  and  that  puts  your  aunt  terrible  out  o'  sorts, 
if  you  only  knew  it.  'Twas  only  the  other  day  she  said 
to  me, '  This  comes  of  keeping  folks  from  goin'  to  the  poor- 
house.'  I  d'clare  for't  that  riled  me ;  I  flared  right  up  then. 
4  How'd  you  like  to  have  your'n  treated  so  ?'  si ;  '  mabbe 
they  will  be  some  day.  You  can't  expect  to  live  fo'ever !'  It 
was  sarcy,  I  knew  ;  but  how  could  I  help  it,  I'd  like  to  know? 
If  she  don't  haul  in  her  horns,  I'll  light  on  her  again." 

"  No,  Debby,"  I  said,  rather  bitterly,  "  she  shall  not  have 
occasion  to  say  so  much  longer." 

"  Wall,  I  won't  stan'  by  and  see  her  'bused.  She  never 
whips  her  when  Mr.  Martin's  round ;  I  know  the  reason  too  ; 
she  can't  pull  wool  over  my  eyes,"  declared  Debby.  "  I 
don'  know  as  she  means  it  r'ally.  She'll  put  some  salve  on, 
when  it's  likely  to  be  a  witness  aginst  her — that  salve  though's 
as  hard  as  Pharo's  heart ;  jest  about — she  allers  was  a  'mazin' 


RUBLNA.  335 

hand  to  whip  an'  pound:  for  my  part,  I  don't  b'lieve  in't. 
Wall,  then,  she  won't  let  her  sleep  with  me  ;  she'll  make  her 
go  off  in  the  dark,  for  fear  she'll  set  the  house  afire  if  she 
has  a  candle.  I  don'  know  how  she's  the  heart  to  do  it.  / 
couldn't,  if  I  hated  a  body  the  wust  way." 

Sleep  did  not  visit  my  eyelids  that  night.  I  zealously  fed 
anger  by  pondering  these  unexpected  events — trying  to  bring 
to  light  the  hidden  remedy.  Vain  effort !  The  path  before 
me  looked  shorter  and  narrower  than  ever.  I  felt  that  I 
must  quickly  traverse  it ;  but  my  eager  glance  saw  no  way- 
side outlet  to  highways  beyond :  only  the  same  dead  mono- 
tony, bounded  by  impenetrable  thickets  which  I  might  not 
hope  to  scale.  I  look  back  now  to  those  restless  plans,  pro- 
ductive of  naught  but  chill  discomfort,  with  a  vague  feeling 
of  pity  for  the  ignorance  which  entailed  them.  For  it  is  not 
amid  the  tumult  of  conflicting  passions  that  the  mind  wakes 
to  clear  life,  and  shapes  its  course  of  action ;  only  the  dregs 
of  ambition  are  stirred  thereby,  and  the  muddy  waters  must 
settle*  calmly,  ere  Reason,  stern  and  pale,  can  effectively 
counsel. 

It  was  evident  that  my  aunt's  injudicious  harshness  was 
producing  the  result  of  a  nervous  derangement  in  the  child, 
that  in  after  years  might  be  difficult  to  check.  She  did  not 
consider  that  sending  her  solitary  to  bed,  in  a  cold  silent 
room,  from  which  death  had  so  recently  snatched  one  occu- 
pant, while  it  would  not  in  the  least  affect  her  own  nerves, 
might  affect  Annah's  more  sensitive  ones  fatally.  I  think 
my  aunt's  bereavements,  following  each  other  so  suddenly, 
had  rendered  her  naturally  harsh  nature  morose.  Perhaps 
she  grudged  that  the  two  orphans  should  be  spared,  and  her 
own  offspring  taken.  I  did  not  wonder  at  it.  I  had,  I  trust, 
sufficient  charity  for  the  doer,  while  condemning  the  deed 


836  RUBINA. 

itself.  Sturdily  vindictive  I  assuredly  was ;  but  only  to  per- 
sistent, ungenerous  unkindness. 

The  two  graves  in  the  churchyard  grew  green  in  the  sum- 
mer showers.  I  planted  wild  roses  around  them,  and  studded 
their  tops  with  violets.  In  the  long  dreamy  afternoons,  it 
was  a  sad  pleasure  to  visit  them ;  clearing  away  the  rank 
mullein  and  dandelions  which  perseveringly  threatened  usur- 
pation. Uncle  Joel  often  followed,  and  watched  my  work 
in  silence.  Dear  loving  old  man  !  If  I  sought  his  face  with 
a  questioning  glance,  he  smiled  approvingly,  and  turned 
away.  His  staff  had  worn  a  series  of  indentations  in  the 
soil  round  them,  for  his  visits  were  daily.  Aunt  Rhoda  never 
accompanied  him.  It  was  her  custom  to  stop  there,  on  her 
way  home  from  Sunday  services,  for  a  brief  inspection.  Her 
meditations  amid  these  crumbling  relics  of  mortality  were 
characteristic.  She  wandered  carelessly  among  the  narrow 
grassy  paths,  taking  a  critical  survey  of  each  tenement— audi- 
bly recalling  incidents  in  the  lives  of  the  deceased  incum- 
bents, not  always  of  the  most  appropriate  nature  for  discus- 
sion. "I  allers  told  Joel,"  she  was  accustomed  to  say, 
"  that,  if  I  should  go  first,  I  was  perfectly  willin'  he  should 
marry  agin' ;  only  I  want  he  should  wait  long  enough  to  be 
decent.  I  want  my  shoes  to  have  a  chance  to  cool  'fore  an- 
other woman  steps  into  'em.  He  allers  declares,  right  up 
an'  down,  he  never'd  marry  ag'in ;  but,  law  me !  he  would. 
They  all  act  like  possessed,  and  make  perfect  fools  o'thcm- 
selves  over  ev'ry  young  gal  that  comes  along,  I  allers  said, 
if  I  had  my  life  to  live  over  ag'in,  I'd  marry  a  widower; 
they  know  how  to  'preciatc  a  wife  after  they've  lost  one." 

This  summer's  placidity  was  broken  by  a  visit  from  Mr. 
Hume.  I  felt  no  desire  to  see  him.  Deep  down  in  my 
heart  rankled  unforgiving  bitterness ;  for  I  could  not  forget 


RUBINA.  337 

that  but  for  him  my  cousin  Demis  might  have  been  flitting, 
blithe  and  merry  as  of  old,  around  the  old  homestead.  And 
•why  could  he  not  have  returned  her  pure  affection  ? — won  too 
openly  for  his  own  vindication.  "  Man's  love,"  thought  T, 
bitterly,  "  is  but  a  caprice ;  retained  best  by  repulses,  coyness, 
distrust — often  by  positive  dislike.  It  likes  shady  nooks  and 
cold  surfaces,  and  treats  with  unappreciative  disdain  rich, 
fertile  prairies  of  feeling ;  the  sunny,  open  giade,  where  grow 
spontaneous  clusters  of  the  fairest  flowers.  Well,"  I  thought, 
as  I  stealthily  surveyed  him,  "  I  want  none  of  your  love.  I 
feel  no  thrill  of  tenderness  for  you.  Even  your  virtues  de- 
preciate, in  my  sight,  below  redemption.  Your  defects 
stand  forth  more  prominently  than  of  old :  that  creeping 
smile  has  hardened  to  a  sneer;  its  benevolent  life  warped 
into  surface  coldness.  The  longer  I  gaze,  the  more  it  seems 
as  if  I  knew  you  not.  Some  friendly  film  has  dropped  from 
iny  eyes,  rendering  their  vision  keener.  Distrust — the  guar- 
dian-angel of  the  inexperienced— has  uncovered  her  talons, 
ami  planted  one  in  my  heart." 

He  remained  several  days  in  Northfield,  meeting  warm 
greetings  in  the  farm-house  ;  but  they  could  not  feel  as  I 
did,  because  they  were  ignorant  of  what  I  knew.  Debby, 
it  is  true,  sometimes  hinted  of  her  foresight,  evidently  de- 
siring to  enlarge  at  length,  and,  if  possible,  draw  from  me 
confirmation  of  her  suspicions.  She  reported  significant 
dreams  and  marvellous  signs ;  but  I  steadfastly  discouraged 
such  disclosures,  shortened  such  conversations,  and  faith- 
fully kept  my  dead  cousin's  secret.  I  avoided  meeting 
Mr.  Hume  alone,  and  on  all  occasions,  treated  him  with 
coldness  ;  if  it  piqued  him,  he  discovered  no  evidence  there- 
of in  his  manner. 

One  day — a  bright,  cool  afternoon — he  came  down  sud- 
15 


338  RUBINA. 

denly,  with  an  urgent  request  for  a  walk.  I  gave  him  a  curt 
negative. 

"  Sartain,"  cut  in  Debby,  quickly,  "  you  can  go  as  well's 
not,  Ruby.  There  ain't  no  chores  to  do  up,  but  to  mend  the 
stockin's,  and  them  I  allers  do  myself.  I  allers  darn  with  a 
double  thread,  but  Mis'  Martin  don't;  I  can  beat  her  a 
darnin',  any  day." 

I  repeated  my  answer;  he  turned  away,  looking  cut  to 
the  heart.  "  Very  good,"  I  thought,  grimly  surveying  his 
crimsoned  visage ;  u  that  don't  suit,  does  it,  my  master  ? 
You  gave  poor  Demis  many  such  thrusts ;  now  I  intend  to 
return  them  with  interest."  As  he  turned  away  silently,  a 
flash  of  repentance  smote  me,  almost  retracting  the  uncivil 
words  and  the  bitter  after-thoughts  :  I  suppressed  it  speedily. 
My  conscience,  however,  once  pricked  with  remorse,  would 
not  let  me  rest.  I  could  no.t  help  thinking  that  Demis  would 
not  thus  have  acted.  Could  her  pure  spirit  look  from  celes- 
tial heights,  and  penetrate  the  earthly  vapor  enveloping  my 
soul,  she  would  be  immeasurably  grieved  at  my  perversity. 
Surely,  the  civil  request  merited  equal  civility  ;  a  walk  would 
not  have  harmed  me,  much  as  I  despised  him.  The  thought, 
once  started,  pressed  harder  over  the  ground,  and  fairly  ran 
down  my  unusual  haughtiness.  After  trying  in  vain  to  sew 
calmly,  I  gave  it  up,  and  tried  reading,  with  no  better  suc- 
cess. My  own  reflections  crowded  on  the  page  thick  and 
fast ;  very  confused  and  hideous  looked  their  ranks  as  I  sur- 
veyed them,  and,  captain  over  the  throng,  brooded  sullen  re- 
venge. I  could  not  absolutely  detest  him :  the  past  was  too 
rich  in  reminiscences  for  that ;  but  I  flattered  myself  that  I 
had  arrived  at  the  climax  of  contempt,  which  breeds  hate 
readily  enough.  The  book,  too,  was  one  he  had  brought 
me — long  coveted,  but  the  donor  hardly  thanked  for  making 


RUBIXA.  339 

the  desire  a  possession.  I  turned  the  leaves  slowly,  passing, 
I  suppose,  an  hour  or  two  in  this  employment ;  then  I  closed 
the  book,  and  leaning  my  elbow  on  the  window-sill,  and  my 
head  on  my  hand,  I  listened  willingly  to  the  still  small  voice 
of  repentance.  The  surroundings  were  favorable  for  such  re- 
flection. I  was  alone.  Aunt  Rhoda  had  taken  her  knitting 
and  departed  for  an  afternoon  visit.  Annah  had  early  peti- 
tioned to  be  permitted  to  "  go  and  see  Olive."  Debby  had 
taken  her  basket  of  yarns  and  the  pile  of  mutilated  hose,  out 
on  the  piazza,  where,  as  she  slowly  passed  the  long  needle  in 
and  out  of  the  huge  rents,  she  sang  to  herself  in  a  dreamy 
monotone.  Occasionally  she  paused  to  remove  her  specta- 
cles and  wipe  their  dimmed  glasses,  as  some  sad  recollection 
surged  up  with  the  mournful  cadence  and  moistened  her 
eyes.  It  was  too  dreary  to  be  longer  borne.  Strong  in  my 
desire  to  do  justice  where  I  had  deeply  wounded— ah,  reader, 
reluctant,  after  all,  to  admit  one  tenderer  plea — I  started, 
and,  seizing  my  sun-bonnet,  walked  slowly  to  the  gate. 
Debby  ceased  her  humming,  and  gazed  after  me  with  a  ques- 
tioning glance.  I  opened,  went  out,  and  shut  it  deliberately, 
pausing  a  moment  in  fastening  down  the  latch,  to  ask  my- 
self if  it  were  best  to  retreat  ere  a  single  battle  had  been 
fought.  I  half  opened  it  again,  to  re-enter  the  house  ;  but, 
glancing  up,  I  caught  Debby's  look  of  intense  curiosity — she 
had  stolen  to  the  front  windows,  to  watch  my  proceedings — 
and  I  resolutely  turned,  walking  with  a  rapid  step  to  the  vil- 
lage. I  entered  the  humble  gateway  of  the  churchyard.  As 
I  expected,  Mr.  Hume  was  standing,  with  uncovered  head,  by 
a  well-known  grave.  My  dress  rustled  over  the  long  grass. 
He  turned  quickly.  "  Ah,  Ruby,"  he  exclaimed,  sorrowfully, 
"  you  scorn  my  very  presence  ;  you  utterly  despise  me  ;  but 
is  love  so  cheap,  that  you  can  thus  recklessly  fling  it  to  the 


340  KUBIXA. 

winds  ?     At  least,  be  a  just  judge  before  you  pronounce  sen- 
tence.    Hear  me !" 

Strange  place  for  such  a  declaration.  I  can  no  more  re- 
member what  next  he  said,  than  I  can  recall  the  events  of 
the  first  unimpressive  year  of  my  life.  The  comparison  is 
ill-chosen  :  the  very  rush  of  the  wordy  torrent  smote  memory 
into  helplessness.  I  have  a  dim  idea  of  a  succeeding  stormy 
burst  of  passion,  reeking  with  vehement  protestations,  en- 
treaties, and  pleadings,  as  he  knelt  in  the  rank  grave  foliage, 
and  with  trembling  eagerness  sought  my  hand.  His  look, 
more  than  his  words,  rolled  in  upon  my  questioning  con- 
sciousness, bringing  in  its  wake  a  long  train  of  assents.  The 
mist  was  clearing  from  my  heart :  its  motives,  so  long  flat- 
tered into  a  belief  of  their  generous  self-sacrifice,  looked 
more  terrestrial.  I  looked  eagerly  inward  during  that  brief 
space,  only  to  behold,  with  a  volition  not  of  my  approval, 
his  image  firmly  stamping  itself  there.  Love  came  to  me, 
not  a  mere  feeble  child  to  be  fostered  into  ardent  maturity  ;  he 
sprang,  vigorous  and  of  full  stature,  at  once  to  his  throne  in 
my  heart.  Thus,  though  I  battled  bravely  against  one  spark 
of  truant  tenderness,  thinking  it  a  wrong  to  the  sleeper  at  our 
feet,  I  could  not  resist  the  flood  from  rolling  over  the  thirsty 
desert.  It  carried  with  it  all  sign  of  opposition,  but  under 
its  waves  distrust  still  lingered.  Then  I  heard  his  voice 
stealing  in  upon  returning  attention,  softly,  like  a  dream  of 
music  saying,  "  Let  us  court  happiness  while  yet  we  may. 
Let  us  be  all  the  world  to  each  other,"  and  my  heart  silently 
answered,  "  Oh !  if  I  could  efface  the  memory  of  wrong,  love 
would  be  so  easy."  Borne  down  I  was  by  his  strong  as-' 
severations,  but  not  convinced. 

"  Life  is  but  short  at  best ;  and  who  can  tell  what  dark  clouds 
may  linger  over  our  future  horizon  ?"  again  I  heard  him  saying. 


RUBINA.  341 

What  ill-omened  words  were  these,  after  such  a  confession  ? 
What  mystery  was  this  man,  who  one  moment  woke  respon- 
sive echoes  to  his  own  wild  pleading — almost  a  murmur  of 
assent — the  next,  as  with  a  sudden  after-thought,  frowne  1 
back  to  the  farther  shores  the  full-freighted,  coming  wave  ? 
I  was  mortified  to  perceive  the  incongruity  between  this 
speech  and  the  preceding ;  the  truly  selfish  reason*  for  in- 
dulging in  happiness — fragile  thintr — to  be  shattered  by  a 
wave  of  adversity.  I  thrust  back  the  skeptical  thought 
defiantly. 

"  Why  seek  for  dark  probabilities,  when  bright  ones  are 
just  as  cheap,  and  far  more  agreeable?"  He  smiled  indul- 
gently ;  and  I  felt  a  damp  cloud  settling  gradually  over  my 
springing  hopefulness.  We  walked  around  to  the  church 
steps  and  sat  down.  Then  followed  long  consultations — all 
on  his  part ;  /  was  only  expected  to  quietly  accede — in  the 
gathering  evening  shadows.  The  scene  rises  before  me  now 
like  a  once  seen,  dimly  remembered  picture.  The  glimmering 
walls  of  the  church  for  a"  background ;  before,  and  at  the 
sides,  the  serried  ranks  of  the  dead,  with  their  ghastly  tablets ; 
while  far,  far  above,  rose  a  deep  blue  vault,  hung,  here  and 
there,  with  a  stray  evening  lamp,  the  faint  disc  of  a  crescent 
moon  illuming  its  centre.  Life  seemed  to  eddy  away  farther 
and  farther,  in  the  solemn  stillness ;  and  all  talk  of  material 
hopes,  fears,  happiness,  sheer  impracticability,  mere  idle 
tattle.  Old  mother  Nature  is  a  grand  confidante.  Into  her 
sympathizing  ears  are  poured,  what  wondrous  secrets. !  She 
listens  in  silence,  hiding  them  deep  down  in  her  inmost 
heart.  But  think  her  not  neglectful  of  responses.  She 
twinkles  approval  or  doubtfulness  from  the  stars.  She  sends 
warning  messages  in  the  breezes  ;  and  for  the  sorrowing, 
bite  infuses  the  oil  of  consolation  by  her  mere  presence. 


342  RUBIXA. 

For  every  unveiling  of  your  heart,  she  returns  an  answer, 
hidden  from  you  only  by  your  own  dullness.  I  felt,  and  was 
soothed  by  this  strange  confidential  charm,  as  I  sat  there, 
mechanically  making  the  desired  responses.  The  school- 
master seemed  unconscious  that  I  had  given  him  no  promise. 
Very  confident  his  tone ;  very  emphatic  his  phrases. 

"  Where  will  you  be  when  I  come  for  you  ?  In  the  peace- 
ful seclusion  of  these  grand  old  mountains,  I  hope.  I  shall 
see  you  in  imagination,  flitting  among  your  old  haunts,  going 
soberly  to  church,  and  fulfilling  your  duty  in  every  righteous 
way." 

I  laughed  involuntarily.  "  A  pleasant  little  picture;  but 
I  do  not  mean  to  live  up  to  it.  I  am  going  somewhere" 
— my  ideas  were  vague,  you  see,  reader — anywhere.  He 
stared  in  surprise  :  then  he  began  to  protest  vehemently.  "  It 
was  madness,  folly,  to  abandon  home.  What  did  I  expect 
to  do  in  the  world  ?  What  special  vocation  had  I  ?  My 
duty  clearly  lay  among  my  uncle's  family.  I  must  abandon 
it  at  once.  My  schemes  were  wild." 

Exhibition  of  will  in  another,  always  roused  mine.  I  lost 
my  passiveness.  "  I  do  not  agree  with  you,"  I  said  coolly. 
"  Mark  said  the  same  thing,  but  4ie  failed  to  convince  me." 

"  What  a  pity,"  said  Mr.  Hume,  "  that  your  cousin  aban- 
doned his  noble  calling,  for  a  vagrant's  life  on  the  wide  waste 
of  waters.  I  was  astounded  when  the  news  reached  me." 

Again  the  old  feeling  of  repulsion  crossed  me,  as  the 
schoolmaster  pronounced  these  words  in  a  tone  of  cold,  hard 
disapproval.  The  wild  excitement  of  the  scene  amid  those 
same  church  walls  rushed  vividly  over  me.  I  drew  a  little 
away  from  him  as  I  answered.  "I  could  not  blame  him. 
I  would  have  done  the  same.  I  should  have  despised  him 
if  he  had  thought  it  just.  Even  at  the  mere  recollection, 


RUBINA.  343 

my  carefully  cultivated  amiability  vanishes  like  a  sprite  of 
air.  I  cannot  yet ;  I  never  shall  be  able  to  treat  the  minis- 
ters civilly." 

"  That  is  all  wrong,"  said  he  coldly,  and  I  drew  quite 
away  from  him  as  he  said  it:  he  noticed  it,  and  smiled 
ironically.  "I  beard  all  about  it.  It  was  indeed  awful, 
but  I  must  admit  its  justice,"  he  added,  looking  away  towards 
the  western  horizon. 

"  Then  do  you  say  amen  to  such  a  heathenish  code  ?"  I 
cried  in  dismay. 

"  I  believe  we  cannot  limit  the  Divine  forgiveness  ;  neither 
his  avenging  justice.  Of  their  conflicts,  and  the  final  sentence, 
we  must  be  content  to  draw  our  knowledge  from  revelation. 
It  is  terrible  to  the  wicked — sublime  to  the  good." 

I  rose  abruptly.     "  Where  are  you  going,  Ruby  ?"  said  he 

"  Anywhere.  I  can  sit  here  no  longer.  Down  these  steps 
they  carried  her,  out  to  that  narrow  home,  religiously  fancy- 
ing they  had  consigned  her  to  eternal  torment.  Oh !"  I 
said  more  softly,  as  I  stooped  over  the  blooming  mound. 
"  Hers  was  such  a  beautiful  faith  !  Demis,  dear  Demis  !"  I 
uttered,  as  if  she  could  hear  me.  "  I  receive  it  into  my  heart, 
my  life ;  I  believe  with  you,  that  for  all  of  earth's  desolate 
ones  there  is  at  last  a  rest,  a  hope,  an  immortal  soul-life, 
pure,  beautiful  and  true,  from  which  all  earthiness  is  forever 
purged,  and  which  rises  and  expands  progressively,  until  at 
last  it  shall  bloom  in  divine  beauty."  It  might  have  been 
fancy ;  it  might  have  been  the  rustling  assent  of  the 
wind-swept  foliage  near  me ;  but  I  thought  a  presence,  a 
living  form,  drew  to  my  side  in  close  communion,  spirit  with 
spirit,  passed  swiftly  by,  and  floated  away  on  the  returning 
breeze.  I  listened  intently,  as  if  for  the  sound  of  retreating 
footsteps.  I  glanced  upward  at  the  stars,  now  thickly  stud- 


344  KUBINA. 

ding  the  dark-blue  arch ;  they  seemed  imbued  with  a  holier 
radiance;  they  seemed  tranquilly  smiling  with  a  tenderer 
light.  The  schoolmaster  broke  the  spell. 

"  You  are  sadly  heterodox,"  said  he,  smiling,  in  spite  of  his 
efforts  to  look  grave :  "  an  obstinate  little  piece  of  humanity, 
as  ever  I  had  to  deal  with.  How  you  do  retain  an  idea, 
when  once  thoroughly  imbibed  !" 

"  It  will  prove  so  in  my  love  for  you,"  I  said  thoughtfully. 
"  So  beware  how  you  foster  it,  unless  you  care  for  it !" 

"  I  do  care  for  it,"  he  returned  seriously.  "  I  mean  to  be 
a  faithful  gardener ;  I  mean  to  prune  sorely  at  times,  but 
only  for  our  mutual  good.  I  may  as  well  tell  you  that  I 
intend  to  make  your  newly  expressed  religious  views  conform 
to  mine.  Ah  !" — and  he  patted  my  head  forbearingly — "  you 
will  be  as  orthodox  a  minister's  wife  as  I  can  possibly 
desire." 

"  Humph !"  was  my  sole  reply.  He  looked  annoyed,  and 
dropped  my  hand.  "I  hardly  know  whether  you  love  me 
or  not,"  said  he,  after  a  pause.  "You  won't  bear  with  me 
one  whit." 

"No,  indeed,"  I  cried  quickly.  t  "  Why  should  "l,  pray? 
Better  wait,  ere  you  attempt  any  renovations,  for  the  period 
when  your  slightest  wish  becomes  my  law,  after  the  praise- 
worthy fashion  of  story-books.  I  don't  anticipate  such  a 
masculine  millennium.  Women  are  fools  to  sink  their  indi- 
viduality, and  become  weak,  soulless  pieces  of  mechanism, 
merely  because  their  self-styled  lord  and  master  disapproves 
of  this  expression,  or  prefers  that  they  should  entertain  that 
opinion  ;  looking  up  to  him  on  all  occasions  as  their  em- 
bodied source  of  inspiration.  I  tell  you  they  know  as  much 
as  their  masters,  if  they  choose  to  think  so." 

"  I  suppose  you  intend  to  think  so,  at  all  events,  and  set 


RUBINA.  345 

the  poor  misguided  sisterhood  an  example,"  he  returned,  sar- 
castically. 

"  Yes !  I  have  a  mind  of  my  own,  and  I  will  use  it.  I 
have  opinions  of  my  own,  and  I  shall  not  borrow  yours.  Out 
of  the  future  I  will  shape  a  destiny,  which,  if  not  brilliant  or 
famous,  will  yet  suit  my  inborn  originality.  I  can  never  be 
your  echo.  If  you  want  some  one  to  surfeit  you  with  flat- 
tery and  land  you  to  the  sties  to  others,  go  seek  her  else- 
where. I  am  my  own  mistress." 

"Fool !"  he  ejaculated  wrathfully.  "  I  will  go,"  and  his 
lips  grew  white  with  anger ;  "  but,"  he  added,  turning  away 
with  a  laugh,  short  and  spiteful,  "you  will  then  be  running 
after  me.  I  will  make  you  love  me  yet,  Ruby  Brooks,  and 
then  we  will  sec." 

"  See  what  ?"  I  said  abruptly,  and  half  angrily. 

"  See  what  becomes  of  that  declaration  of  independence. 
All  women  are  remarkably  self-sustained  until  they  really 
love" — he  threw  me  an  insulting  laugh.  A  long  silence  fol- 
lowed. 

"  You  and  I  will  never  suit,  my  master ;  I  always  felt  and 
knew  it,"  thought  I  bitterly — all  the  more  bitterly  for  suffer- 
ing the  advent  of  a  few  precious  moments  of  happy  hope. 
"  Each  fountain  may  gush  profusely,  yet  their  waters  will 
never  mingle."  Aloud,  I  felt  impelled  to  say  :  "  I  love  the 
qualities  embodied  in  manhood,  Mr.  Hume,  not  the  man 
himself.  If  you  showed  forth  great  courage,  I  should  love 
the  courage,  and  you,  simply  because  you  represented  it." 

"  Your  idea,  Ruby,  is  silly  and  weak.  Your  notions  are 
too  vague  ever  to  develop  themselves  into  substance." 

My  mentor,  as  he  said  this,  glanced  down  with  very  proper 
scorn,  as  if  from  an  immeasurably  superior  elevation.     "Let 
us  go  home,"  I  said,  coldly,  at  the  same  time  turning  away. 
15* 


346  EUBINA. 

"  Very  well,"  was  his  brief  rejoinder ;  "  and  tell  me,  if  you 
please,  as  we  go,  about  your  dreams  of  this  wonderful  des- 
tiny of  yours." 

I  smiled  disdainfully.  "It  is  swathed  as  yet  in  swaddling- 
clothes  ;  but  I  dare  attempt  to  lift  it  from  a  visionary  in- 
fancy, to  a  bright  realizing  maturity." 

"But  how?"  he  questioned.  "Your  ideas  are  so  vague. 
One  never  can  understand  you." 

"  It  is  not  necessary  that  one  should,"  I  replied,  per- 
versely. "  I  understand  myself,  and  that  is  sufficient." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  he  said,  with  another  laugh  ;  and  he 
crossed  the  road,  walking  on  alone.  He  was  angry,  but  I 
did  not  care.  An  hour  since  I  had  almost  loved  him.  Fond 
words  and  caresses  had  passed  between  us  as  he  bent  over 
me  with  tenderness,  and  talked  of  our  future.  Now,  it  seem- 
ed as  though  it  had  never  been.  In  its  room  came  back  the 
recent  dislike  and  distrust.  I  watched  him  scornfully,  as  he 
strode  on  with  angry  unconcern,  and  I  gradually  slackened  my 
pace,  and  fell  behind.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill  he  stopped,  as 
if  struck  with  a  sudden  thought,  and  looked  around.  I  came 
on  still  more  leisurely.  He  chose  to  seat  himself  on  a  log  by 
the  roadside  and  wait  for  me :  his  face  wore  a  look  of  ex- 
perimentive  raillery. 

"  Suppose  you  preach  instead  of  me,  Miss  Ruby  !" — a  little 
while  since  it  had  been  dear  Ruby,  and  darling — "  You  claim 
such  equal  rights.  I  assure  you  I  shall  be  charmed  to  be 
one  of  your  listeners.  What  will  you  advocate  ?  You  must 
have  a  platform  of  some  kind." 

"  Yes,  I  would.  The  platform  of  help  to  world-weary,  suf- 
fering humanity." 

His  smile  stung  me.  I  felt  bound  to  retort  in  some  man- 
ner, but  severe  words  failed  me.  Instead,  he,  poor  miser- 


RFBTNA.  347 

able  stripling,  sitting  on  the  blackened  log  and  smiling  so 
superciliously  in  my  face — faded.  The  road,  a  winding, 
prostrate  column  of  dust,  vanished.  I  was  again  in  the 
churchyard,  kneeling  among  the  grassy  ridges ;  and  the 
coming  years  stretched  out  before  me.  I  was  not  dismayed 
at  the  revelation.  I  shouldered  my  pack,  and  traversed  them. 
I  felt  solitary,  but  not  disheartened;  weary,  but  I  sat  not 
down  to  rest.  Sloth  lurked  under  the  thickets  by  the  way- 
side ;  but  I  pointed  my  finger  in  scorn,  and  it  disappeared. 
I  fainted  often  under  grievous  burdens,  but  my  failing 
strength  as  constantly  renewed  itself.  Illusions  faded  as  I 
advanced,  and  stern  reality  showed  me  its  bitterness,  its 
gloom.  Then,  when  the  end  had  been  reached — the  end  of 
youth — and  I  saw  still  the  same  unvarying  road  before  me ; 
felt  the  load  still  clinging  to  my  back — felt  my  feet  falter, 
and  my  tongue  grow  parched  with  unquenched  thirst,  I 
cried,  almost  despairingly :  "  Let  it  come !  let  it  come 
quickly.  Since  it  must  be  so,  let  me  drain  the  very  dregs. 
In  them  assuredly  lies  strength." 

Oh !  a  fairy -land  is  the  future  to  the  novice.  Fair  skies 
and  soft  breezes  fan  the  still  perfumed  air  into  choruses  of 
song.  Fools !  The  aged  pilgrim  will  tell  you  that  it  is  but 
the  sirocco's  dreadful  breath  ;  a  deadly  whirlwind  sweeping 
over  each  cherished  hope,  and  crushing  them  to  atoms. 
The  promises  shine  golden  in  the  west :  ripe,  tempting  from 
the  green  boughs,  hangs  the  cooling  fruit  with  which  we 
hope  to  slake  our  fevered  lips.  The  fruit,  when  plucked  and 
eaten,  turns  to  ashes  in  our  mouths,  choking  down  com- 
plaint. "Oh  !"  exclaim  we,  "  for  a  stronger  arm,  and  faster 
feet,  that  we  may  reach  the  goal  the  sooner ;  where  sweeter 
possibilities  cluster;"  and  onward,  more  and  more  eagerly, 
we  plunge  as  it  recedes  from  view,  or  glows  fainter  through 


348  KUBINA. 

the  mists  of  dimmed  eyes  (for,  alas !  our  eyes  do  grow  dim 
with  sorrow,  age,  and  much  weary,  lonely  weeping.  Hope- 
less griefs,  unredressed  miseries,  fruitless  watchings  and  wait- 
ings for  deserting  blessings  and  alienating  friends,  each 
draw  a  pall  over  them,  and  death  adds  the  last  with  the  bier) ; 
and  so  blind  are  we  that  we  heed  not  the  real  truth,  that 
though  our  sorrowful  pilgrimages  apparently  estrange  us  from 
the  happy  country,  they  are  in  reality  but  the  stepping-stones 
to  hasten  our  progress  thither.  "  Yes  !"  I  added,  triumphantly, 
"it  is  all  right  after  all.  It  is  best  that  illusions  should  die, 
having  served  their  purpose.  We  cannot  grasp  heaven  with  a 
wish,  however  fervent ;  but,  like  all  earthly  good,  it  must  be 
toiled  for.  In  doubt,  darkness,  through  this  weary  lapse  of 
time ;  with  groanings  that  cannot  be  uttered  ;  with  tears 
wrung  from  slowly  oozing  life-forces  ;  with  wasting  form  and 
feature  ;  with  spiritual  eagerness,  which  cannot,  will  not  take 
denial ;  with  faith  the  most  exalted,  love  and  hope  the  most 
humble  and  ardent.  The  soul  thus  purified  shall  attain  it, 
and  its  pack  roll  after  poor  '  Christian's'  pack — to  be  seen 
no  more  forever."  I  stopped  abruptly,  and  found  myself 
flushed  and  trembling  before  the  schoolmaster.  He  looked 
astonished  first ;  then  he  smiled  ironically. 

"  Not  quite  a  sermon  yet ;  but  pretty  well  for  a  beginner — 
only  your  hearers  may  not  all  like  such  a  flowery  burst  of 
eloquence.  Try  again,  Mistress  Ruby.  You  will  soon  be 
able  to  preach  for  even  me." 

"  Yes,  I  will  preach  to  you,  Mr.  Hume.  Every  soul  is 
created  a  preacher,  sneer  as  you  will  at  so  democratic  an 
idea.  You  ministers  are  would-be  aristocrats  in  heaven's 
courts ;  you  would  hern  yourselves  in — a  class  by  no  means 
to  be  approached,  save  with  full,  unquestioning  acceptance  of 
any  doctrine  you  choose  to  promulgate.  I  don't  like  to  see 


EUBIXA.  849 

God's  truth — eternal,  infinite  truth,  so  glorious  in  its  severe 
simplicity — obscured;  its  white  disc  even  temporarily  sullied 
by  the  merest  speck  of  manhood  claiming  to  be  its  representa- 
tive ;  cradling  the  pure  image  in  his  own  shallow  nature, 
only  to  turn  it  forth  to  the  world  as — a  lie." 

"  But  why  can  you  not,  Miss  Self-confidence,  be  equally 
deluded — be  equally  the  champion  of  falsehood  ?"  asked  the 
schoolmaster,  his  eyes  ablaze  with  angry  glare. 

"I?  Because  I  honor  truth  too  highly.  Because  my 
occupation  would  not  be  gone  if  I  dared  to  proclaim  from 
the  house  tops  what  you  ministers — falsely  so  called — hide 
under  a  bushel.  Ah !  vainly.  The  light  will  glow,  and 
stray  gleams  will  penetrate  its  living  prison,  and  weary,  hun^ 
gry  souls  will  some  time  bathe  in  its  full  effulgence,  radiant 
in  a  newly-born  humanity." 

"  So  the  poor  minister's  office  is  a  sinecure  in  your  estima- 
tion ;  to  be  done  away  with  from  earth.  What  shall  I  do  ?" 
in  a  mocking  tone  of  inquiry. 

"  Better  break  stones  on  the  highway,  say  I,  with  a  noble 
soul,  than  to  blindly  attempt  to  guide  the  blind  into  ignoble 
ditches." 

A  scornful  laugh  answered  me.  Undaunted,  I  continued  : 
"  Strike  the  broad  surface  of  truth  upon  the  anvil  of  calm, 
intelligent  reason,  and  listen  to  its  resonant  ring.  Ap- 
proach a  finger  to  its  sharp  edge,  and  no  wonder  you  shrink 
back  wounded.  Nature  deals  not  in  evasions — she  mates  not 
with  hypocrisy.  Face  her  honestly,  and  you  gain  a 
noble  answer,  a  mighty  helper,  a  generous  friend." 

"  Indeed  ?"  slowly,  and  with  bitter  emphasis. 

"  You  are  angry  with  me,  Mr.  Hume,  but  remember  it  was 
you  who  provoked  retort.  I  cannot  clip  the  wings  of  a  truth, 
because  it  flies  straight  home  from  my  lips  to  your  heart." 


350  RUBINA. 

"  Truth !  You  do  not  even  perceive  truth,  Miss  Brooks," 
he  sneered. 

"  Oh  !"  exclaimed  I,  passionately,  "  we  may  as  well  part 
now,  and  forever.  I  do  not  love  you.  I  wonder  I  ever  did." 

"  Nay  !"  he  broke  in,  triumphantly,  "  I  shall  hold  you  to 
your  promise.  You  need  not  begin  to  deny  it ;  a  tacit  prom- 
ise is  as  binding  as  any.  And  we  need  not  quarrel  if  you 
would  but  be  more  placable  ;  if  you  would  but  hear  to  me; 
trust  me.  Can  you  not  trust  me,  dear  Ruby  ?"  Again  his 
coldness  melted,  and  he  bent  over  me,  all  fire  and  tenderness. 
I  felt  the  charm,  the  magnetism  of  his  slightest  caress.  I  felt 
contrition  for  what  I  had  said.  I  almost  yielded  to  the  strange 
attraction  which  his  mere  presence  had  for  me.  Will  again 
slumbered.  Reason  retired.  Only  caution,  of  all  faculties  the 
most  prominent,  remained  to  guard  her  rightful  heritage. 

"  No !"  said  I,  gently,  "  I  cannot  trust  you  utterly.  I 
do  not  appreciate  coldness,  raillery,  sarcasm.  Why  do  you 
not  hear  to  me — trust  me  ?  It  is  a  poor  rule,  you  know,  Mr. 
Hume,  that  won't  work  both  ways."  I  surveyed  him  calmly. 

"  You  are  such  a  strange  girl !"  he  said,  in  surprise.  "  But 
you  will  have  to  submit  at  last;  it  is  woman's  destiny." 

"  Submit !"  I  echoed.  "  For  shame,  sir  !  It  is  an  insult  to 
speak  so  to  me.  I  will  never  marry  you.  I  annihilate  my 
promise,  it'  any  such  existed." 

"You  cannot,"  he  replied.  "God  and  the  angels  wit- 
nessed it;  and  it  is  not  so  easily  annulled.  But  here  we  are 
at  the  gate,  and  we  will  finish  our  talk  in  the  house,  for  to- 
morrow I  must  leave  Northfield."  He  placed  his  hand  on 
the  latch ;  but  I  removed  it. 

"  No !  you  need  not  go  in,"  I  said,  coldly.  "  We  have  no 
more  to  say.  I  can  here  bid  you  farewell,  and  all  prosperity." 

His  late  anger  appeared  vanished ;  he  looked  at  me  loug 


RUBINA.  851 

and  seriously  —  like  an  indulgent  parent,  pitying,  yet  de- 
spondent of  a  cure  for  perversity. 

"Does  such  conduct  make  you  happy?"  he  at  length 
asked. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  can't  quite  determine,  Mr.  Hume. 
Sometimes  I  wouldn't  give  a  copper  coin  for  my  whole  life — 
past,  present,  or  future  ;  then,  again,  I  feel  like  singing  Glo- 
ria in  Excelsis  over  it.  I  am  so  blissfully  contented,  that 
common  cares,  common  griefs,  move  me  not  a  grain.  I  swing 
high  above  them  all,  and  rock  myself  to  sleep  with  my  own 
imaginings.  You  couldn't  call  me  miserable  then.  If  you 
did  I  would  laugh  in  your  face,  and  bid  you,  you  old  prosaic 
growler,  try  to  attain  to  the  same  elevation." 

"Those  moods  don't  last  long,"  said  he,  confidently. 

"Nay,  there  is  their  greatest  charm.  They  are  only  the 
natural  reaction  of  as  many  hours  of  misery  ;  the  inevitable 
balancing  of  Nature,  to  keep  our  moral  and  mental  well 
being  nicely  poised." 

"  What  strange  talk !"  he  exclaimed ;  "  what  strange 
phrases  you  use  !  Which  state  are  you  in  at  present  ?"  He 
eyed  me  curiously. 

Again  the  unwelcome  conviction  would  recross  my  mind, 
would  resume  its  accustomed  arguments,  that  his  sudden, 
ardent  passion  was  a  myth.  That  he  was  merely  revelling  in 
his  former  habits  of  artful  experimenting  with  human  hearts  ; 
carefully  testing  each  chord,  to  wake  its  accordant  or  discord- 
ant chime  for  his  own  selfish  pleasure.  I  replied,  demurely  : 

"  If  I  should  tell  you,  you  would  gain  little  credit  for  dis- 
cernment. You  might  make  that  out  for  yourself,  sir,  I 
should  think." 

"  I'll  be  blamed  if  I  can  make  you,  or  any  thing  you  do 
or  say,  out,"  he  half  growled.  Lifting  his  eyes,  he  caught 


352  RUBINA. 

my  mocking  smile,  I  suppose,  for  his  swarthy  cheeks  flushed 
deeply  red.  "  Are  you  a  devil  or  an  angel,  madam  ?"  he 
asked,  with  a  ridiculously  earnest  air ;  "  for  the  life  of  me  I 
cannot  tell." 

"  I  begin  to  suspect,  Mr.  Hume,  that  I  have  a  composition 
of  both  specifics  ready  and  willing  to  be  used." 

"  Specifics  for  what  ?"  He  clutched  irritably  at  the  nearest 
rose-bush ;  starting  back  the  next  instant,  as  the  tiny  thorns 
struck  into  the  quivering  flesh. 

"  Sweet  oil  is  a  specific  for  that  piece  of  hardihood,"  I 
suggested,  holding  out  my  hand  for  the  suffering  member. 
Half-doubtfully  he  gave  it. 

"  One  moment,"  said  he,  eyeing  me,  "  you  are  as  cold 
as  an  iceberg ;  the  next,  fiery  as  Vesuvius.  Every  gesture  is 
scornful  contempt ;  every  word  is  scorching  lava.  I  cannot 
come  anywhere  near  you.  Then,  when  I  don't  ask,  don't 
look  for  kindlier  favors,  lo !  you  show  a  sweeter,  sunnier 
side,  and  there  in  a  shady  nook  stands  my  angel,  smiling 
and  beckoning  me  on  to  happiness."  He  uttered  this^  in  a 
dreamy  tone  of  soliloquy — then,  a  little  louder:  "Are  our 
quarrels  forever  past,  Ruby  ?" 

Why  did  not  some  spirit  whisper  away  the  impulse  which 
seized  me  ?  I  was  happy,  but  I  would  not  show  it ;  I  felt 
very  gently  disposed  towards  him,  but  I  twisted  it  awry  with 
a  glance  at  the  previous  hour.  I  think  it  was  the  recollec- 
tion of  those  bitter  words,  and  the  shadow  of  a  sneer  still 
hovering  round  the  mouth — not/  to  be  utterly  routed  by 
more  genial  feelings — which  prompted  me  to  answer  coldly : 
"  They  are  but  just  begun,  sir." 

He  suddenly  released  me.  "  Perhaps  it  is  better  as  it  is," 
he  coolly  mused — a  moment  since  he  would  submit  to  no 
repulse — "  I  shall  not  bkme  myself  if  I  leave  you,  never  to 


RUBINA.  353 

return  again.  You  have  brought  it  on  yourself,"  was  his  in- 
different soliloquy. 

"  Oh  !"  I  cried,  from  the  depths  of  my  heart,  "  you  might 
have  made  me  what  you  would,  but  not  by  tyranny.  It 
would  have  been  a  pleasure  to  crucify  any  plan  or  pleasure 
interfering  with  your  will,  but  you  throw  me  scorn,  and 
expect  me  to  greedily  swallow  it." 

He  steadfastly  persisted  in  misinterpreting  my  words. 
"  Remember  what  I  tell  you,  Ruby  Brooks ;  when  too  late 
you  will  regret  your  course.  You  must  give  up  your  will  to 
be  any  thing  to  me  :  I  shall  reign  in  no  divided  heart.  And 
what  does  it  matter  to  you  ?  a  woman  ;  incapable — whether 
you  will  own  it  or  not — of  guiding  vourself  or  others.  Now 
think,  and  choose  not  hastily.  I  shall  come  to-morrow  for 
your  answer." 

"  I  have  chosen  now,  sir." 

"  No :  you  are  angry  now.  I  do  not  release  you  from 
your  promise  in  any  case.  It  is  only  to  absolve  myself  from 
blame  in  your  eyes,  if — as  is  not  unlikely — you  should  ever 
feel  disposed  to  blame  me." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,  Mr.  Hume,  that  you  hold  me  to 
my  promise — so  called — and  consider  yourself  at  liberty  to 
discard  your  own  ?" 

"  Why,  yes.  Though  I  do  not  look  at  it  so,"  he  answered. 
"  In  my  case  I  am  incapable  of  breaking  miue  ;  but,  for  you,  I 
require  some  security." 

Cool  insult,  not  to  be  tamely  borne.  Unmanly  way  of 
extrication  from  a  sorely-repented-of  proposal.  I  read  his 
motive  well.  To  test  it  further  I  said  no  more,  but  bade  him 
a  quiet  good-night,  and  went  in.  It  was  as  I  thought.  He 
did  not  come  down  "for  my  answer" — final  as  fate — but 
early  the  next  day  left  Northfield. 


354  RUBINA. 

Was  I  sorry  ?  Did  I  feel  humiliated  by  the  intentional 
slight  ?  I  hardly  can  tell.  When  one's  whole  life  is  a  spasm 
of  pain,  one  scarcely  notes  and  analyzes  each  individual  pang. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

ERE  autumn  set  in  I  dispatched  a  letter  to  my  Uncle 
Lucas,  briefly  reminding  him  of  his  kindly  offer,  and  as 
briefly  intimating — I  did  not  like  the  task — my  readiness  to 
avail  myself  of  his  offer  to  Annah.  It  is  well,  perhaps,  that 
we  have  to  subdue  pride  occasionally,  else  it  would  run  over 
and  smother  all  gentler  feelings.  It  cost  me  several  weeks 
of  thoughtful  revolvings  as  to  other  practicable  plans,  and  a 
few  sleepless  nights — those  few  lines  to  my  uncle — but  write 
and  send  them  I  did  at  last ;  and  urged,  in  a  postscript,  an 
immediate  answer.  Not  that  there  was  any  need  of  haste  in 
going,  but  I  dreaded  being  impaled  on  the  thorn  of  suspense 
longer  than  was  absolutely  necessary.  I  also  hinted  in  ray  let- 
ter that  for  myself  I  asked  nothing  :  I  should  look  out  for  work 
to  do  immediately — that  he  might  not  think  his  foolhardy 
invitation  had  turned  on  him  two  burdens.  I  felt  constrained 
to  make  some  change,  and  I  resolved  that  it  should  be  a  move 
forward.  Several  reasons  prompted  this.  I  felt,  at  times,  that 
in  some  sort  my  aunt  considered  us  a  grievous  burden.  She 
discussed  the  family  prospects  with  so  gloomy  a  countenance, 
and  prophesied — that  last  dreadful  calamity  to  a  thrifty  New 
Englander — a  speedy  approach  to  the  poor-house.  I  thought, 
too — it  may  have  been  a  mistake — that  she  repented  taking 
us  from  that,  our  inevitable  home,  had  we  been  left  on  charity, 
and  she  grew  into  a  habit  of  dropping  significant  phrases  into 
Annah's  ears ;  she,  of  course,  repeated  them  to  me,  as  our 


RUBINA.  355 

aunt  intended.  If  she  skipped  round  the  room  in  the  exuber- 
ance of  youthful  gayety,  or  warbled  a  cheerful  strain,  Aunt 
Rhoda  seldom  failed  to  bring  her  soberly  down  to  silence,  by 
hoping  "  she  wasn't  gittin'  to  feel  above-board,"  or  wonder- 
ing "  how  she  had  the  heart  to,  when  there'd  been  a  death 
in  the  family."  Often  I  heard  these  cold,  curt  observations. 
The  scant  wages  earned  by  teaching  were  not  quite  sufficient 
to  clothe  us,  though  we  had  nothing  but  the  barest  necessa- 
ries. If  Uncle  Joel  purchased  any  thing,  however  trifling, 
Aunt  Rhoda's  mouth  pursed  up  into  a  still  more  forbidding 
expression  than  it  ordinarily  wore ;  and  she  never  failed  to 
leave  the  impression  that  she  must  do  without  in  conse- 
quence. My  services  at  home,  of  the  most  laborious  nature, 
she  counted  as  nothing — in  no  way  an  equivalent  for  the  food 
we  consumed.  I  was  not  surprised  at  this.  She  was  so  habit- 
uated to  unceasing  work,  that  she  could  not  fully  appreciate 
another's  labor.  Work  was  the  element  she  lived  in,  delighted 
in  :  she  judged  all  by  the  same  standard.  Then  the  charm 
of  the  old  life  was  gone  for  roe.  Sweet  had  been  the  long 
summer  days,  when  Demis  shared  my  tasks ;  the  busy  morn- 
ing hours  ;  the  calm  afternoons  of  sisterly  communion.  Now 
in  every  room  lurked  memories,  saddened  by  the  thought 
pferpetually  haunting  me,  they  are  no  more ;  they  arc  gone 
forever. 

Something  unceasingly  whispered  to  me,  saying :  "  You 
are  eighteen  ;  old  enough  to  judge  for  yourself.  Go  out 
into  the  world  ;  not  hive  yourself  in  grudged  precincts  any 
longer.  Shake  off  lethargic  dependence,  and  enroll  your 
name  with  other  workers." 

An  answer  came  from  Uncle  John  in  due  season,  cordially 
approving  of  my  resolve.  "  The  sooner  I  came  the  better,  as 
the  fall  term  opened -in  a  fortnight."  He  added,  also,  a  kind 


356  EUBIXA. 

message  from  Millicent — self-suggestive,  I  afterwards  found. 
Nothing  remained  to  be  done  but  to  announce  my  speedy 
departure  to  the  family.  I  am  sure  Uncle  Joel  really  grieved 
over  the  news.  When  away  from  his  wife's  sharp  eyes,  sharper 
ears,  and  sharpest  tongue,  he  gave  expression  to  this  regret  in 
his  own  quaint  language,  with  tears  in  his  dark,  soft  eves. 
Debby,  too,  frequently  interrupted  herself  in  some  heavy 
household  labor  to  declare,  with  a  despondent  droop  of  the 
piteous  eyes,  that  she  felt  "  ruther  down  at  the  heel  'bout  our 
goin'.  I  don'  knojv  what's  got  into  me,  Ruby,  but  I  haint 
no  faculty  to  work ;"  and  the  tears  would  start  afnesh  as  she 
mournfully  looked  up  at  me.  "  All  you'll  git  out  o'  Har'ner 
Lucas,"  said  she,  with  emphasis,  "  you  can  put  in  a  chippin'- 
bird's  eye,  and  not  put  it  out.  A  closer  critter  never  drew 
the  breath  of  life.  She's  as  tight  as  the  bark  to  a  tree."  She 
seemed  to  consider  it  foolish  in  the  extreme,  and  one  day, 
after  a  profound  cogitation  over  the  irouing-table,  she  lifted 
her  head  and  remarked  to  Aunt  Rhoda :  "  Young  folks  are 
desp'rate  flighty  now-days;  don't  know  when  they're  well 
off;  t'want  so  in  my  day.  And  I  should  think  you  might 
reason  her  out  o'  her  projicts,  Mis'  Martin.  You  can  carry 
through  most  any  thin'  you  undertake,  you  know  ;  but  law 
sakes  alive  !  she  won't  hear  to  me  one  grain.  I'm  nothih' 
but  a  passenger."  No  perceptible  effect  followed  this  bit  of 
flattery,  and  she  once  more  bent  in  disappointed  energy  over 
her  work. 

I  was  glad  Aunt  Rhoda  said  nothing.  I  was  spared  the 
pain  of  hearing  myself  announced  as  "  in  the  way,"  for  she 
was  no  hypocrite  to  dissemble  :  if  she  said  any  thing,  it 
would  be  the  truth.  However,  I  did  not  hurry  needlessly. 
I  paid  dear  Sinai  a  visit,  and  during  those  delightful  days  we 
discussed  the  probable  future,  twisted,  turned,  and  endeavored 


RUBINA.  357 

to  lift  the  inscrutable  curtain  hiding  it  from  our  view.  Fruit- 
less endc?vors,  but  they  begat  hours  of  pleasant  chat,  and  a 
stock  of  hope — abundant  enough  to  feed  upon  in  the  coming 
separation.  Not  alone  of  the  years  to  come  did  we  talk ; 
we  sent  a  backward  glance  now  and  then  down  the  halls  of 
vanished  time,  freshly  embalming  each  withered  flower  in  its 
niche  of  memory;  lingering  over  them  lovingly,  as  we  trod 
with  hashed  breath  the  sacred  portal.  "Ah,"  murmur- 
ed Sinai,  "  if  we  could  go  out  of  this  form,  and  leave  no 
gap  !  If  the  disintegrated  elements  of  the  affections  would 
reunite  and  flow  onward  as  easily  as  the  divided  ocean- 
waves  !  But  that  is  impossible.  Our  heart-strings  once  cruelly 
wrenched  asunder,  never  again  quiver  with  just  the  same 
vibrations  to  the  old  familiar  melody.  The  chords  may  be 
firmer  strung,  and  send  forth  sweeter  airs  ;  I  do  not  deny  it," 
she  resumed,  plaintively,  "  but  oh !  they're  not  the  same. 
Ruby,  my  child,  do  you  not  know  and  feel  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  Sinai.  It  seems  sacrilege  to  me  to  even  think 
of  supplying  the  places  of  the  dead  with  other  friends ;  they 
may  be  good,  but  they  cannot  bring  the  same  sense  of  kin- 
ship. No,  they  should  live  and  reign  in  our  hearts  forever. 
Alas !  that  one  human  life  cannot  be  torn  from  time,  but  it 
leaves  some  root  bleeding.  All  unconsciously  it  may  be  to 
ourselves,  we  twine  round  each  kindred  heart-beat  in  our 
neighbors,  and  when  the  separation  takes  place,  how  we 
groan  and  suffer,  and  cast  our  mangled  tendrils  o'f  love  de- 
spairingly on  the  ground !  They  can  never  flourish  again ; 
never  bloom  with  the  same  flowers  as  of  old." 

li  That  is  true,"  said  Sinai;  "we  are  each — however 
poor,  and  weak,  and  ignorant — a  prop  to  some  weaker  soul ; 
a  teacher  to  some  one  more  ignorant ;  a  guide  to  some  one 
more  blinded.  There  is  comfort  in  that,  Ruby.  Who  shall 


358  KUBINA. 

say,  then,  in  a  vain  spirit  of  bitter  complaining,  '  Nature 
made  me  in  a  lowlier  mood  than  she  did  my  neighbor :  I 
am  good  for  nothing — useless  ?'  Let  his  tongue  cleave  to  the 
roof  of  his  mouth  in  horrified  refutation  of  the  base  cal- 
umny. Heaven  would  not  tolerate  idle  dependences.  We 
are  all  workers,  voluntary  and  compulsory,  in  the  divine 
vineyards.  Know,  O  repiners,  that  you  serve  an  important 
purpose  in  the  economy  of  nature,  if  you  but  teach  one 
fainter  heart  than  your  own  the  brave,  grand  lesson  of  en- 
durance." 

"  Yes,  that  is  it,  Sinai ;  the  lesson  of  endurance  !  Ah  !  it 
toughens  one  merely  to  imagine  the  scenes  of  temptations  and 
trials,  and  bitter  strivings  with  the  world  and  the  evil  within 
us ;  and  the  coming  off  victorious  over  all ;  and  the  renewal 
of  strength  after  each  bloody  combat ;  and  the  robes  of  the 
victor  at  the  end."  I  paused,  and  laughed  exultantly. 

"  You  look  very  much  as  if  you  liked  it,"  said  Sinai, 
gravely. 

"  So  I  shall !  so  I  shall !"  I  repeated,  clinching  my  fist  and 
shaking  it  in  the  unseen  faces  of  my  imaginary  foes.  "  I 
long  to  be  at  it,  Sinai.  The  world !  1  but  laugh  at  you.  I 
will  ride  on  your  topmost  crest  some  day,  and  think  it  but  a 
paltry  triumph.  I  know — I  see  your  sneers,  and  frowns,  and 
angry  dodges ;  your  slights  and  freezing  smiles,  and  decided 
cuts ;  I  don't  feel  abashed.  I  feel  your  pricks,  and  indig- 
nant thrusts,  and  violent  kicks,  and  the  spurs  quivering  in 
the  warm  flesh.  They  will  not  kill  me ;  the  armor  of  pride 
is  invincible.  What  are  you  but  a  menial,  ministering  to 
immortals  ?  You  shall  bend  the  knee  to  me.  As  for  devils, 
both  great  and  small,  in  knotted  legions,  I  defy  you  all.  I 
feel  superior  to  all  such  demoniac  affinities  to-day,  Sinai,"  I 
continued,  laughing  at  her  astonished  face.  "  Though,  for 


RUBIKA.  359 

any  thing  I  know  to  the  contrary,  it  may  be  the  charm  of 
your  presence  out-battling,  out-riding  the  malignant  spirits. 
They  are  often  more  potent  for  evil  than  to-day." 

"  I  am  but  a  sinful  mortal,  like  yourself,"  she  murmured, 
gathering  up  her  work. 

"  Xay.  Debby  declares  you  to  be  an  angel,  and  I  don't 
feel  tempted  to  contradict  her,"  I  retorted,  smiling  at  the 
grieved,  horrified  air  with  which  she  disclaimed  all  celestial 
attributes,  and  shaking  my  head  in  gentle  denial  at  her  ar- 
gument's close. 

However  sad  the  beginning  of  our  chat  might  be,  we  rarely 
left  it  so.  Some  sudden  turn  of  the  conversational  road 
showed  us  a  broad  sunny  field  of  mirthfulness,  in  which  we 
sported,  relieved  and  refreshed.  Or  her  sisters  would  break 
in  upon  our  seclusion  with  a  quaint  observation,  completely 
sundering  gloom,  and  sending  a  rift  of  cheerful  laughter  to 
end  it.  On  the  whole,  happy,  hopeful  plans  predominated 
over  evil  forebodings,  and  I  bade  them  all  good-by  with  a 
doughty  heart. 

There  remained  only  one  more  friend  to  visit ;  so  one 
sunny  afternoon  I  gathered  my  work,  and  went  up  to  see 
her.  There  had  been  a  falling  off  in  cordial  visits  since 
Mark's  departure — not  an  acknowledged  mode  of  declaring 
warfare,  since  each  matron  spoke  when  they  chanced  to 
meet  in  prayer-meeting,  sewing-circle,  and  conference,  and 
the  two  sires  clasped  hands  as  of  old,  and  sent  forth  as  hearty 
an  "  How  are  you  ?" — there  was  a  restraint  plainly  felt, 
though  unexpressed  in  words ;  and  gradually  the  intercourse 
came  to  be  limited  to  very  few  and  far  between  visits. 

Olive,  indeed,  rarely  went  anywhere  in  these  days.  Her 
sister's  infirmity  increased,  and  she  wrapped  herself  in  an  at- 
mosphere of  love  and  duty,  seldom  stirring  from  the  poor 


360  RUBINA. 

maniac's  presence.  They  admitted  few  visitors.  Their 
presence  usually  inflamed  Avis  to  such  an  extent,  that  she 
forgot  herself — lost  all  trace  of  her  pure,  shy  womanhood, 
and  broke  into  fearful,  blasphemous  revilings  and  foul- 
mouthed  obscenity.  These  spasms  were  in  her  wildest  days. 
Often  weeks  would  slip  by,  when,  if  nothing  occurred  to  ruffle 
her,  she  was  pliant  and  gentle  as  a  lamb — distinguished  from 
her  right-minded  former  self  by  nothing  save  an  idiotic  va- 
cancy of  look  in  her  deep  dreamy  eyes,  and  an  entire  un ob- 
servance of  family  movements.  I  usually  saw  Olive  by 
stealth,  a  few  moments  at  the  gate,  or  in  a  walk  down  the 
long  hill  homeward.  Now  I  knocked  at  the  door,  rather 
doubtful,  it  must  be  confessed,  if  I  might  not  be  denied  ad- 
mittance. A  rustle  and  a  scamper  of  feet  followed  ;  then  a 
pause,  when  the  door  opened,  and  Olive  stood  there  some- 
what flushed,  but  smiling  a  cordial  welcome.  "  Come  in," 
she  cried,  seizing  my  hand,  "  don't  be  afraid ;  Avis  ran 
when  you  knocked,  but  that  is  nothing." 

"  Is  she  worse  than  usual  ?"  I  inquired,  as  I  tugged  at  the 
knot  in  my  bonnet-string. 

"  We  can  scarcely  call  her  better ;  much  the  same.  She 
was  very  wild  this  morning.  Eliel  brought  home  one  of  his 
young  friends  to  dinner,  and  she  went  into  a  paroxysm  di- 
rectly. She  has  been  quietly  expounding  Scripture  to  us  all 
the  afternoon,  until  you  came :  then  she  shuffled  away,  and 
mother  went  after  her." 

Mrs.  Peirce  here  returned,  shook  my  hand  with  brief  kind- 
ness, and  soon  after  slipped  from  the  room,  pausing  a  mo- 
ment in  the  doorway  to  say  : 

"  I  hear  you  are  going  away,  Ruby ;  is  it  so  ?" 

"  Yes,"  I  tranquilly  replied.     Olive  looked  up  in  surprise. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?" 


RUBINA.  361 

"I  don't  quite  know  myself,"  I  said,  smiling  in  her  wide- 
open  eyes. 

"  Better  let  well  enough  alone,"  said  her  mother,  seriously. 
'•'  I  don't  believe  you'll  better  yourself." 

"  I  shall  be  sorrier  than  I  can  tell,  to  have  you  leave,"  ob- 
served Olive,  after  a  long,  thoughtful  pause.  "  I  suppose 
you  will  do  better  to  go,  however ;  and  sometimes  I  almost 
wish  I  could  go  where  I  could  never  set.  eyes  on  Northfield 
again.  But  that's  a  selfish  wish,  and  I  blame  myself  for  it, 
and  strike  my  breast  hard — so — to  keep  such  hateful  thoughts 
in  their  places." 

"  Are  they  any  worse  out  than  in  ?"  I  questioned,  ab- 
ruptly. 

"  Decidedly,"  was  her  cool,  calm  answer.  "  My  duty 
plainly  lies  at  home.  I  shall  never  leave  it,"  she  added, 
firmly.  "  I  sometimes  seem  to  be  walking  in  a  dream,"  she 
proceeded.  "  I  can  scarcely  realize  how,  when,  or  where  my 
future  has  become  so  changed.  I  never  looked  forward  to 
the  possibility  of  its  coming  in  this  shape.  If  it  had  been 
but  a.f/radu(d  approach,  I  think  I  could  have  borne  it  better. 
Oh,  Ruby  !"  she  let  fall  her  work,  and  eyed  me  wistfully, 
"  I  am  quite  discouraged  at  times." 

I  bent  a  searching  glance  at  her.  The  poor  girl  had 
changed,  as  well  as  her  prospects.  She  looked  thin,  sad- 
eyed,  and  pale ;  her  figure  had  lost  its  buoyant  erectness, 
and  gained  a  desponding  droop — a  weakness,  showing  itself 
in  every  motion  of  the  wasting  arms  and  trembling  fingers ; 
an  unwonted  nervousness,  which  started  at  every  sudden 
sound,  even  to  the  dropping  of  her  thimble,  or  the  sharp 
click  of  her  scissors  striking  the  bare  floor/  Her  innocent, 
coquettish  love  of  dress  seemed  also  to  have  fled.  In  place 
of  the  trimly-fitting  delaine,  the  narrow  wrought  ruffle,  and 
16 


362  RUBINA. 

the  black  silk  apron,  she  wore  a  slovenly,  beclaggled  calico, 
a  wide,  long  woollen  apron,  and  a  blue  gingham  'kerchief  tied 
around  her  white  throat.  She  caught  the  disapproving 
glance  I  cast  upon  these  articles,  and  half-laughingly  at- 
tempted an  apology. 

"No  one  comes  to  see  us  now,  so  I  don't  mind  about 
being  particular.  What  is  the  use  ?"  she  sighed,  as  she 
resumed  her  needle. 

I — rather  heartlessly — said  something  regarding  Mark's 
tastes  in  these  appointments.  She  lifted  a  pair  of  reproach- 
ful eyes  to  my  face.  "  Ruby,  you  don't  know  every  thing. 
Let  his  name  alone.  He  will  come  back  some  day,  and  all 
will  be  explained.  I  can  wait,"  she  said,  sadly. 

"Yea,  verily.  Be  not  cast  down  nor  dismayed,  oh! 
daughter  of  Zion !"  now  pronounced  a  deep,  strong  voice 
from  a  corner  of  the  room.  I  turned  at  the  sound,  to  see 
Avis  composedly  sitting  on  the  floor,  Bible  in  hand — partly 
closed — while  her  great  eyes  regarded  us  with  flickering 
light. 

"  Avis,  come  and  speak  to  Ruby,  won't  you  ?"  asked  Olive, 
coaxingly. 

Still  she  stared  at  us,  moving  not  an  inch.  •  "  How  do  you 
do,  Avis  ?  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you  !"  I  exclaimed,  rising 
and  going  over  to  her.  I  stooped  and  offered  my  hand  ;  she 
glared  at  it  a  moment,  and  snorted  an  impatient  "  Humph  !" 
ere  she  reached  forth  her  gaunt  arm,  and  struck  it  from  her 
contemptuously.  "  Humph  !"  she  again  muttered  :  "You're 
a  messenger  of  evil,  and  I  don't  know  you — begone  !  Get 
thee  behind  me,  Satan."  She  shrank  farther  into  the  corner. 

"  Why,  Avis,"  said  Olive,  .soothingly,  "  don't  you  remem- 
ber Ruby,  whom  you  used  to  go  to  school  with,  and  whom 
you  liked  so  well  ?  I'm  sure  you  do." 


RUBINA.  363 

"  Ah !  yon  can't  deceive  me,"  she  chuckled,  with  a  hide- 
ous grimace.  "  Ruby  was  well  enough  once,  but  she  belongs 
to  the  devil  now — soul  and  body !"  she  added,  aside  to  her 
sister.  I  got  up  and  walked  away.  Olive  followed,  and  we 
resumed  our  sewing.  Presently  some  one  nudged  my  elbow  ; 
I  looked,  and  beheld  Avis. 

"  Poor  chick !  why  don't  you  try  this  ?"  she  exclaimed,  in 
a  tone.full  of  pity,  and  rapping  her  -Bible  with  a  forefinger. 
"  Didn't  you  ever  try  it  ?  I  have.  It's  all  that  does  any 
good.  You  don't  know  how  the  little  imps  fly  when  I  take 
this  out  and  shake  it  in  their  faces.  They  can't  stan.d  ;  so 
they  give  a  yell  and  pitch  head-foremost  into  the  brimstone 
again,  and  I  get  a  little  peace.  Did  you  ever  see  hell-fire  ?" 
she  asked,  in  a  whisper.  "No!  Well,  /  have,  times  with- 
out number.  I  tell  you  it's  awful ;  there's  so  much  of  it, 
and  it  keeps  burning  year  after  year ;  never  dies  down  a  mo- 
ment ;  rain  don't  put  it  out — only  makes  it  blaze  the  fiercer. 
Then  the  worst  of  it  all  is,  that  away  up  above  the  skies  I 
can  see  the  elect,  with  the  holy  angels  keeping  company 
together,  with  songs  and  laughter,  and  every  once  in  a  while 
they  get  up  and  play  on  their  harps — real  shining  gold  ones, 
too — and  dance  before  the  throne.  You  remember  the 
hymn,  don't  you  ?  '  And  sing,  and  dance,  and^  shout,  and 
fall  o'erwhelmed  before  Thy  throne.'  Just  like  this ;"  and 
Avis  commenced  capering  around  the  room  with  extraor- 
dinary gestures;  every  now  and  then  bobbing  her  head 
almost  to  the  floor. 

"  Hush  !  oh  !  hush  !"  whispered  Olive,  soothingly.  "Ruby 
knows  all  that.  Sit  down,  now,  and  tell  her  about  your 
schools." 

"  I  tell  you  I  worft  hush.  She  don't  know  all  about  it !" 
roared  Avis.  "  If  you  do,  come  and  show  me  how  they  do 


364  RUBINA. 

it,"  she  cried,  turning  and  seizing  my  hand.  "  There !  she 
can't  take  one  single  step,"  she  added,  triumphantly.  "  Well, 
they  sing  and  shout,  and  take  off  their  crowns  to  throw  at 
the  foot  of  the  throne,  and  all  sorts  of  things  ;  only  I  won- 
der if  they  pick  'em  up  again,  or  do  they  get  new  ones  every 
time  ?  Say,  do  you  know !  Tell  me." 

"  Don't  they  pluck  them  from  the  tree  of  life  ?"  I  faintly 
suggested,  feeling  rather  frightened  at  her  strange  looks  and 
tones. 

"  Yes  ;  that's  it,"  she  cried,  delighted.  "  I  never  thought 
of  that ;  and  I've  wondered  and  wondered,  and  read  and  read, 
and  never  could  make  out  where  their  flowers  and  things  came 
from.  Well,  why  do  they  look  over  and  laugh  at  us,  away 
down,  down  in  the  darkness  below  ?  Tell  me  ;  you  know." 

"  They  do  not,"  I  said,  calmly  as  I  could ;  "  they  are 
sorry  for  and  piiy  us." 

"  That's  false !'"  she  returned,  decidedly.  "  I've  seen  them 
shouting  and  pointing  their  fingers  at  us — just  as  we  used  to 
shame  the  little  girls  in  school  to  make  them  cry.  Now  it 
strikes  me  that,  if  they  were  good,  they'd  be  in  better  busi- 
ness. They  are  not  good  ;  only  they  are  the  elect,  you  see, 
so  they  are  up  there  all  safe  and  sound,  without  hardly  try- 
ing for  it.  Oh !  they  don't  know  how  the  fire  burns  us, 
right  in  through  the  flesh,  dries  up  the  blood  and  scorches 
the  bones ;  how  they  crackle !  It's  fun  to  hear,  only  it's 
awful  to  feel.  I'd  like  to  get  'hold  of  some,  and  pull  'em 
over  the  battlements  into  the  flames !  Then,  I  guess,  they'd 
sing  a  different  tune.  But,  no ;  that  I  never  can  do.  That's 
part  of  our  punishment,  you  know ;  to  be  spit  upon  and 
reviled,  and  to  wear  the  thorny  crown." 

"  Never  mind  her,"  whispered  Olive ;  "  don't  answer,  and, 
perhaps,  she  will  stop." 


KUBIXA.  3G5 

"  Well,  we  are  alone  to  blame,"  proceeded  Avis ;  "  for 
we  made  a  pit,  and  digged  it,  and  have  fallen  into  the 
ditch  we  ourselves  have  made.  Poor  child !"— to  me — "  you 
don't  carry  this  book  around  with  yon,  so  you  don't  know 
what  is  in  store  for  such  as  you.  Listen,  now  !"  She  pro- 
ceeded to  pick  out  denunciatory  passages  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment with  ready  zeal. 

"  Read  right  along,"  I  suggested. 

"  No.  The  next  are  angels'  verses  ;  we  have  nothing  to 
do  with  them,"  she  muttered,  as  she  turned  hastily  to  Mala- 
chi.  "  Here,  now,  this  is  directly  to  the  point :  '  For  behold, 
the  day  cometh  that  shall  burn  as  an  oven  ;  and  all  the  proud, 
yea,  all  that  do  wickedly,  shall  be  stubble ;  and  the  day  that 
cometh  shall  burn  them  up,  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts,  that  it 
shall  leave  them  neither  root  nor  branch.'  That's  it,"  she 
chuckled — "  neithe*  root  nor  branch.  But  how  long  it  will 
be  before  that  happens !  such  slow  burning  for  ages  and 
ages.  That's  what  Elder  Fuller  says  all  the  proud  and  un- 
godly shall  come  to.  Yes,  he  says  I  shall  come  to  it  if  I 
don't  watch  and  pray.  I  laughed  in  his  weasen  face,  for  I 
have  come  to  it,  and  he  didn't  know  it." 

"  Read  the  next  verse,"  said  I. 

"  '  But  unto  you  that  fear  my  name,  shall  the  sun  of 
righteousness  arise,  with  healing  in  his  wings;  and  ye  shall 
go  forth  and  grow  up  as  calves  of  the  stall.  And  ye  shall 
tread  down  the  wicked ;  for  they  shall  be  ashes  under  the 
soles  of  your  feet  in  the  day  that  I  shall  do  this,  saith  the 
Lord  of  hosts.'  Pretty  good  authority,"  she  paused  to  sug- 
gest. She  was  going  on,  when  some  word  in  the  last  verse 
caught  and  riveted  her  eye. 

"  What  next  doom  will  be  ours,  I  wonder  ?"  she  remarked, 
thoughtfully.  "Trodden  into  ashes — burnt  up  root  an  1 


366  RUBINA. 

branch !  Doubtless,  after  every  such  extinction,  we  come  to 
life  again,  in  greater  bodily  perfection  ;  with  greater  capacity 
to  suffer  than  before,  and  are  immediately  assigned  a  new 
torment."  She  stopped  to  ponder  a  new  thought,  and  sud- 
denly exclaimed : 

"  They  say  Demis  Martin  is  dead  and  gone  to  hell.  I 
didn't  believe  it,  and  I  asked  Elder  Fuller,  and  he  said  it 
•was  so.  Now  what  do  you  suppose  she  is  doing  ?  /  shall 
find  her  out.  Oh !  it's  nice  to  have  some  one  you  know 
there.  It  seems  strange  ;  I  thought  her  good  ;  but  it  must 
be  so ;  yon  know  ministers  can't  lie.  It  must  be  her  pride, 
I  think  ;  for  she  was  as  proud  as  Lucifer.  Oh  !  a  rare  match 
they  would  make  in  that  respect."  The  maniac  paused, 
and  putting  both  grimy  hands  over  her  mouth,  laughed 
demoniacally. 

I  felt  suffocated ;  and  rising,  I  went  t<5  the  further  end  of 
the  room,  away  from  her,  and  looked  out  of  the  window. 
While  I  mused  there  of  Olive's  sad  fate,  in  daily  living  this 
life,  Avis  stole  nearer.  Awhile  she  eyed  me  askance,  then 
came  boldly  to  my  side.  I  would  not  exhibit  fear;  she  was 
brawny,  and,  if  excited,  had  strength  enough  to  throttle  one. 
I  made  room  for  her  in  the  window.  Olive  leftthe  room  to 
prepare  tea. 

"  Have  you  ever  been  dead  ?"  whispered  Avis,  confiden- 
tially. I  shook  my  head.  "  I  have,"  she  responded,  with 
gratification.  "I  went  there  last  niglit;  into  the  land  of  the 
departed — those  vast  unknown  regions.  I'll  tell  you  about 
it.  The  living  think  that  silence  reigns  there  ;  they  lay  their 
beloved  in  the  cool,  damp  earth,  say  a  prayer  over  them,  and 
think  that  they  sleep  well.  Sleep !  There  is  no  sleep  for 
the  dead — unquiet  rest  prevails.  Insects  in  countless  swarms 
sing  your  eyes  wide  open.  I  lay  still,  in  a  half  trance,  soon 


RUBINA.  367 

succeeded  by  a  species  of  apathetic  wonder,  as  I  began  to 
take  in  the  strangeness  of  every  thing  around  me.  Humanity 
had  certainly  vanished.  I  listened.  Concussions  of  the  mil- 
lions who  walk  earth's  surface  shook  the  very  foundations 
of  my  new  abode.  I  knew  that  they  were  alive  up  there, 
walking,  riding,  working  as  usual.  I  knew  that  some  were 
rejoicing,  some  sorrowing ;  I  thought  and  reasoned  about 
this,  and  yet — I  was  wearing  the  garments  of  the  dead,  in- 
habiting the  last  dwelling.  Earth  had  become  a  memory — 
heaven  a  speculative  wonder.  Was  this  the  entrance?  I 
put  all  sorts  of  questions  to  my  mental  consciousness;  I 
posed  it  with  arguments.  Myriad  thoughts ;  strange,  im- 
possible solutions  of  this  enigma  revolved  themselves  in  my 
brain.  Vain  human  longings  awoke  in  my  heart,  ravenous 
for  sustenance.  I  gorged  them  with  promises  full  of  mis- 
givings, and  upon  their  repose  other  desires  seized  me.  I 
tried  to  move,  to  turn  over ;  to  my  joy,  I  found  that  I  was 
not  stationary.  Ah!  thought  Ij  a  coffin  shall  only  be  my 
couch  at  night ;  the  day  is  for  amusement.  One  leap,  and  I 
rolled  out  of  it  as  easily  as  I  might  have  done  above  ground. 
I  said  day  and  night.  Well ;  although  the  sun  does  not 
warm  or  light  the  grave,  in  one  sense  two  periods  do  exist — 
periods  of  eternity — for,  you  see,  I  had  done  with  time  forever. 
Ha !  ha !  ha !  You  see,  do  you  ?  I  set  out  to  find  other 
inhabitants,  and  I  did  not  have  far  to  journey.  There  are 
countless  caves  under  ground  where  they  loiter.  I  came 
upon  them  suddenly.  I  attended,  without  ceremony  or 
question,  one  of  their  levees.  They  made  room  for  me, 
as  a  matter  of  course.  '  Oh !'  I  whispered  to  my  near- 
est neighbor,  a  tall  skeleton,  whose  rattling  bones  pro- 
duced a  sound  like  castanets,  '  it  isn't  exactly  polite  to 
come  to  a  party  without  an  invitation,  but  I  got  lonely 


368  RUBINA. 

out  there.  Who  gives  it  ?  You  must  introduce  me ;  my 
name  is .' 

"  '  Never  mind  !'  interrupted  the  old  skeleton.  '  You  left 
your  name  behiud  you  when  you  came  here.' 

"  '  Very  good,'  I  responded,'  politely.  '  I'm  glad  enough, 
for  I  never  thought  'twas  a  pretty  one.  But  I  don't  see  how 
you  distinguish  one  from  another.' 

"  '  There  is  no  need,'  he  said,  solemnly.  '  We  are  all 
alike  here.  This  is  my  home.'  I  looked  around  anxiously. 
'Oh!'  said  he,  'and  every  one's  likewise.  You  can 
go  where  you  like,  only  when  the  gun  sounds  you  must 
hasten  to  your  bed  without  delay.  We  all  have  to  do  that.' 

" '  What  gun  ?'  I  inquired. 

"  '  I  don't  know,'  he  answered.  '  Some  call  it  the  great 
sound  of  vanishing  time,  calling  us  back  to  eternity.  I  call 
it  a  gun.'  He  laughed  convulsively,  and  walked  away.  I 
began  to  improve  my  newly-discovered  privileges.  I  was 
glad,  after  all,  that  it  was  not  an  unconscious  slumber.  I 
went  up  to  a  jolly,  fat  man,  who  was  jumping  up  and  down 
for  sheer  amusement. 

" '  Come,'  he  cried,  seizing  my  hands,  '  I  want  a  part- 
ner. Those  old  maids  won't  dance ;  'fraid  their  false  curls 
will  tumble  off,'  he  whispered,  facetiously.  '  One  of  'em 
tried  a  jig  with  mo,  a  spell  ago ;  fact.  One  set  of  teeth 
tumbled  out  her  mouth — couldn't  stop  to  tuck  it  in  again, 
you  know,  so  she  lost  'em  completely — won't  even  smile 
at  me  now.  Breaking  her  old  cracked  peanut  shell  of  a 
heart  for  those  teeth;  blamed  good  dancer,  too — ain't  much 
on  the  new-fangled  curlykews,  but  can't  be  beat  on  a 
good  old  cotillon,  or  the  Highland  fling.  Don't  dare  to 
ask  her  to  take  another  round,  for  fear  her  eyes  '11  fall  out, 
and  then  she  would  be  madder  still.  Now,  off  we  go,'  and, 


RUBIXA.  369 

with  a  vain  attempt  to  twine  bis  little  fat  arm  around  my 
waist,  he  whirled  me  in  a  giddy  waltz,  till  my  head  swam ; 
my  eyes  grew  fixed,  aad  almost  started  from  their  sockets ; 
and  the  blood  seemed  bursting  from  my  cheeks.  Coffin-lids 
burst  off,  and  their  amazed  occupants  popped  out  their 
sleepy  heads  to  look  at  us.  Some  turned  on  end,  and  the 
inmates  looked  and  cheered  uproariously.  Skeletons,  sitting 
cross-legged  on  the  ground,  gathered  up  their  rattling  limbs 
as  we  wheeled  and  glided  near  them,  shaking  themselves 
for  an  accompaniment. 

" '  Oh,  can't  we  stop  ?'  I  gasped  at  length. 

"  'To  be  sure,'  and  my  jolly  fat  neighbor  paused,  panting. 

u  '  You  see,'  said  he,  '  I  am  slowly  getting  rid  of  it.  This 
has  been  a  pretty  fair  stretch.  I  must  dance  with  you  again ; 
you're  so  young  and  lively,  you  hop  like  a  cricket.  I  must 
have  lost  a  pound  at  least.' 

'?'  Of  what?'  Tasked. 

" '  Flesh,  of  course  ;'  he  pinched  himself  in  sundry  places, 
as  if  to  tefct  the  truth  of  his  assertion.  '  It  is  such  an  en- 
cumbrance !  I  shall  be  thankful  to  be  rid  of  it,  but  it  will 
take  so  long  ere  I  can  dance  well.'  He  sighed  despair- 
ingly. '  Now,  there's  a  partner  yonder,'  and  away  he 
danced  towards  her,  as  fresh  as  ever.  Near  me  was  an 
exciting  game  of  leap-frog.  I  watched  it  a  while,  but  finally 
turned  away  in  disgust;  for  two  long-limbed  skeletons 
took  unfair  advantage  of  their  shorter  neighbors.  What 
are  you  looking  out  of  that  window  for?  Attend  to  me 
when  I  am  telling  you  all  of  these  secrets." 

Avis  paused,  to  treat  me  to  a  very  angry  frown.  I  com- 
plied, and  she  resumed,  as  she  paced  up  and  down  before  me. 

"  I'll  tell  you  one  thing,  and  you'll  find  it  true  some  day  :  they 
cheat  in  the  grave  as  much  as  they  do  here.  All  professions 
16* 


370  RUBIN  A.. 

stalked  there.  Ministers  read  sermons ;  lawyers  stirred  up 
contention,  followed  by  suits,  held  courts;  jurors  brought 
in  verdicts;  and  judges  pronounced  sentence.  It  seemed  as 
though  the  long-continued  habits  of  earth-life  formed  a  chain 
too  powerful  to  be  at  once  severed.  All  at  once,  they  began 
to  gather  themselves  up  ;  to  move,  as  strokes  of  some  distant 
bell  clanged,  peal  after  peal,  like  musical  thunder,  through  the 
vast  charnel-house.  We  hastened  back  to  our  coffins,  and 
then  began  repose  till  another  awakening.  All  believed  in  a 
resurrection.  We  discussed  it  often,  the  sole  point  of  entire 
agreement  among  the  army  of  the  dead.  Our  departed 
spirits  now  roaming  space,  unconscious  of  our  whereabouts, 
should  in  some  happy  age  resume  their  relations  to  our 
bodies :  every  particle  of  matter  be  resuscitated  in  new  and 
divine  glory,  and  the  twain — body  and  spirit  bound  indis- 
solubly  in  freshened  holiness,  should  enter  upon  a  heavenly 
inheritance.  Meanwhile  all  vileness  must  crumble  away 
from  us,  ere  the  august  era  could  commence.  I  believe  that, 
don't  you?"  cried  Avis,  suddenly  facing  me. 

"  To  be  sure  !  But  look  at  that  lovely  maple."  I  pointed 
to  a  gorgeous  cone-like  height  of  scarlet  leaves.  I  wished  to 
divert  her  mind  from  her  gloomy  theme.  She  came  to  the 
window  and  looked  out. 

"That's  a  soft  maple,"  she  observed,  with  a  sidelong 
glance,  to  see  how  I  took  this  wonderful  intelligence.  I 
assumed  a  look  of  surprise,  and  began  to  ply  her  with 
questions.  She  was  accomplished  in  that  lore ;  a  thorough 
botanist.  She  warmed  with  the  thoughts  thus  carelessly 
suggested,  pursuing  them  with  the  same  impetuosity  char- 
acterizing her  subterranean  revelations.  I  listened  now, 
delighted.  What  a  fine  mind  she  possessed !  What  a 
wonderfully  retentive  memory  !  She  appeared  not  to  forget 


RUBINA.  371 

the  merest  scrap  of  information — no  matter  how,  when,  or 
where  received.  Fact  after  fact  came  sifting  through  her 
mind — then  dropped,  from  her  eager  tongue,  to  illustrate 
some  botanical  mystery.  No  wandering  speech.  No  lurid 
glare  in  the  dark,  thoughtful  eyes.  No  fierce,  impatient  ges- 
ture. Quiet  her  posture,  intelligent  her  speech,  with  an 
occasional  pause,  and  a  look  into  my  face  of  inquiry.  I 
could  hardly  believe  her  the  same  creature,  who  a  halt-hour 
since  railed  at  all  human  kind ;.  shook  her  fist  fiercely  in 
my  face,  and  called  me  a  devil.  I  assented  to  all  of  her  prop- 
ositions, nodding  my  head  spasmodically  if  she  but  faltered 
in  a  sentence,  for  fear  this  sane  interval  would  vanish  as 
speedily  as  it  came.  How  long  we  stood  thus,  I  know  not ; 
but  until  my  limbs  seemed  ready  to  drop  to  the  floor  with 
fatigue,  and  until  the  shadows  grew  broader  and  broader 
over  the  mountains,  and  the  flaming  foliage  of  the  maples 
grew  colorless  with  the  loss  of  daylight,  and  the  young  moon 
rose  up  from  her  eastern  bed,  a  silver-white  crescent,  and 
poised  herself  high  over  the  dark  line  of  distant  mountains. 
Olive  re-entered  the  room,  and  summoned  us  to  tea.  I 
twined  an  arm  around  Avis's  waist  to  draw  her  away  with 
us,  but  she  darted  a  look  of  jealous  rage  at  Olive  for  inter- 
rupting her,  writhed  herself  fiercely  out  of  my  embrace,  and 
hastily  opening  a  door,  disappeared.  I  heard  her  stealthy 
steps  pacing  to  and  fro  the  narrow  entry.  I  heard  her  unin- 
telligible rautterings,  emphasized  startlingly  by  sudden  blows 
of  her  fist  upon  the  intervening  door.  My  last  view  of  her 
that  night  was  from  a  knoll  commanding  the  house,  as  I 
wended  my  way  homeward  through  the  dewy  meadows.  I 
heard  screams,  with  the  sound  of  voices  in  expostulation,  and 
hastily  turning  to  discover  the  cause,  I  saw  a  tall  female  form 
flinging  from  one  of  the  upper  windows.  She  landed  in  the' 


372  IK' BIN  A. 

garden  below.  Tlie  height  was  inconsiderable.  Apparently 
she  was  not  injured,  for,  straining  eyes  and  ears  to  their  ut- 
most tension,  I  presently  observed  her  slowly  rise,  and, 
assisted  by  two  other  forms,  slowly  hobble  into  the  house, 
while  one  —the  sweet,  sad  tones  of  Olive — remarked,  "  Avis, 
Avis,  you  must  not  do  so.  You  will  break  your  neck  some 
day ;"  and  was  answered  by  an  ironical,  sardonic  roar. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

I  ARRIVED  in  late  in  the  evening,  after  a  tiresome 

journey.  The  morning  was  dark  and  uncomfortable.  In  the 
afternoon  rain  began  to  fall,  gently  at  first,  but  increasing  in 
force,  and  ending  in  a  downright  pour.  This  I  did  not 
mind.  The  changes  were  few  ;  the  stoppages  at  stations 
brief.  At  every  one  I  peered  through  the  splashed  windows, 
only  to  encounter  strange  faces,  wearing  anxious,  disappointed 
expressions,  thrusting  eager  glances  down  the  line  of  seats, 
then  retreating  hastily  to  make  way  for  new  searchers.  But 
our  time  came  at  last  to  leave,  and  we  stepped  from  the  plat- 
form into  a  noisy  throng  of  hackmen.  There  were  crowds, 
too,  of  waiting  friends  for  the  swarms  of  passengers.  On 
every  side  glad  greetings  arose,  with  smothered  kisses  and  joy- 
ful exclamations.  I  stood  irresolute.  I  had  written  Uncle 
John  notice  of  the  day  of  our  arrival,  and  I — perhaps  unrea- 
sonably— expected  some  one  to  meet  us.  The  crowd  of 
drivers  surrounded,  jostled  us.  On  all  sides  arose  angry  alter- 
cation. Annah  pressed  close  to  my  side,  whispering  her 
fear.  I  roused  my  scattering  wits  sufficiently  to  select  one 
of  the  gang,  and  to  tell  him  my  destination.  The  name 


RUBINA.  3T3 

seemed  potent  to  command  respect ;  for  he  at  once  grew 
respectful,  and  shouldering  my  scanty  luggage,  he  plunged 
through  the  giggling  ranks,  and  signed  me  to  follow.  There 
were  two  other  passengers — a  gentleman  and  a  lady.  It 
seemed  that  my  destination  was  reached  first.  The  rain 
poured  in  torrents,  so  I  kept  my  seat  as  I  demanded  the 
fare.  He  named  an  exorbitant  sum  ;  I  drew  out  my  purse  to 
pay  him.  Not  so  the  gentleman  opposite ;  he  stopped  me. 
"  Driver  !"  he  called  sternly.  The  driver  thrust  in  his  drip- 
ping head.  "  Name  the  regular  rate.  You  remember  Hat- 
tuck,  don't  you  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  meekly  replied  the  jehu.  "I  forgot,  mum" — 
with  a  wrathful,  discomforted  glimmer  in  his  hungry  eye  as 
he  received  the  lower  rate.  Good  and  timely  service  from  an 
unknown  friend ;  a  true  gentleman. 

I  alighted  before  a  large  brick  mansion.  Lights  glowed 
through  crimson  curtains  in  the  drawing-room  windows :  over 
these  massive  folds,  looped  back  on  either  side,  I  caught  a 
snowy  glimmer  of  rich  lace,  veiling,  not  concealing,  the  at- 
tractive interior.  Over  the  massive  door,  through  rows  of 
tiny  stained  panes,  the  brilliant  light  streamed,  making  pleasant 
pictures.  It  was  but  a  glance,  as  the  driver  slid  my  trunk  up 
the  marble  steps  and  rang  the  bell.  A  neat  housemaid  an- 
swered it.  She  opened  the  door  just  enough  to  peep  from  the 
aperture  a  pert,  pretty  face,  and  to  inquire  in  as  pert  a  tone, 
"  Who  is  it  ?"  Jehu  replied  by  roughly  pushing  the  door, 
and  shoving  the  trunk  inside.  Then  he  shuffled  down  the 
steps,  mounted  his  box,  pulled  down  his  oil-cloth  cape,  and 
rattled  away  as  furiously  as  the  storm  and  the  consequent 
soft  nature  of  the  streets  would  allow.  "  Come,"  said  the 
pert  face,  "  don't  keep  a  body  here  all  night,  if  you  please." 
She  swung  it  open  wide. 


374  RUBINA. 

I  stepped  into  the  hall.  "  Is  my  uncle  in  ?"  I  managed  to 
ask.  She  gave  a  prompt  negative,  and  plunged  her  small 
brown  hands  in  the  shallow  depth  of  her  apron-pockets.  I 
then  asked  for  my  aunt.  "She  has  gone  to  the  synod  of 
ministers,  at  the  Church  of  the  Apostles,"  she  replied,  glibly. 

"  Why,  who  can  it  be?"  now  exclaimed  a  voice  from  the  open 
drawing-room  door.  A  silk  dress  rustled  into  view,  and  my 
Cousin  Milly  filled  that  space.  She  put  up  both  hands  in 
affected  surprise.  "  Why,  I  declare  it's  Ruby  and  Annah. 
Where  in  this  world  did  you  come  from?"  she  inquired, 
with  a  pretty  lisp.  She  withheld  her  hand  from  my  offered 
clasp. 

"  Where,  indeed,  but  from  Northfield  ?"  I  retorted  c.urtly, 
for  her  manner  angered  me.  I  suspected  her  ignorance  of 
our  arrival  to  be  assumed.  "  Were  you  not  expecting  us  ?" 
I  asked,  quickly. 

She  simpered  and  dropped  her  eyelids  as  she  answered  : 
"  Really,  now,  I  dare  say  he  quite  forgot  it ;  he  is  so  full  of 
business  now-a-days,  and  has  so  many  important  matters  on 
his  mind.  He  says  the  times  are  really  dreadful,  and  I  dare 
say  he  is  right ;  but,  mercy  !  what's  that  to  me  ?  as  if  I  cared. 
We  don't  have  to  screw  and  pinch  to  get  along ;  we  don't 
feel  them  any.  Celia" — she  turned  to  the  girl,  who  stood  lis- 
tening— "  tell  John  to  take  this  trunk  up  the  back  stairs." 

u  Into  the  green-room,  Miss  Milly  ?"  inquired  Celia,  with  a 
giggle  and  a  sidelong  glance  at  my  despised  possession. 
Milly  laughed  also,  but  said  coarsely:  "Get  along,  stupid! 
of  course  not ;  nor  in  thc'oak-room  either ;  but  the  one  at 
the  end  of  the  entry."  A  wink  finished  the  sentence.  "  And 
kindle  a  fire  in  the  dining-room,"  called  Milly  after  the  re- 
treating Celia. 

Servants  take  their  cue  from  their  mistresses.     I  considered 


RUBINA.  375 

this,  and  felt  no  anger  at  Celia's  insolence.  I  turned  and 
surveyed  my  cousin  calmly.  She  looked  taller  than  of  old ; 
but  no  better.  Her  thin,  bloodless  lips  had  the  same  scorn- 
ful curve.  She  assumed  hauteur,  and  thought  herself  on 
that  score  eminently  aristocratic.  Pride — of  some  species 
— is  quite  endurable,  and  even  to  be  commended  ;  but  inso- 
lent airs  of  superiority  always  gall  to  the  quick :  unless 
the  receiver  has  arrived  at  the  stage  of  viewing  them  as 
merely  amusing  acting,  and  can  treat  them  in  a  nonchalant 
way.  I  had  not  arrived  at  this  desirable  point ;  therefore 
Milly's  airs  nettled  me.  I  looked  at  her  again.  A  skilful 
modiste  had  fitted  her  well :  her  robe  of  dark-blue  silk  was 
unexceptionable  ;  so  were  the  tiny  muslin  collar  and  cuffs,  and 
the  gay  little  silk  apron,  with  heavy  silken  tassels. 

"  Are  you  tired  ?"  she  presently  asked,  in  the  cold  tone 
of  one  who  had  neither  anxiety  nor  interest  in  the  answer. 

"  Somewhat,"  I  as  briefly  said.  The  drawing-room  door 
stood  open,  but  she  said  nothing  about  our  entering,  nor 
even  invited  us  to  be  seated  in  the  hall.  I  smiled  at  this. 
The  extremity  of  insolence  is  always  a  ludicrous  point. 
Braving  her  look  of  astonishment  at  my  ignorant  presump- 
tion, I  advanced,  and  settled  myself  on  the  sofa.  "  How 
long  before  your  father  may  be  expected  ?"  I  now  asked. 
"  Oh,  I  don't  know ;  not  until  late,"  she  answered,  coolly ; 
and  probably  considering  the  duties  of  hospitality  amply 
discharged  towards  such  unwelcome  strangers,  she  wheeled 
around  and  walked  into  the  drawing-room,  carelessly  hum- 
ming a  tune.  "  Never  mind,"  I  whispered  to  Annan's  look 
of  dismay;  she  leaned  wearily  back  on  the  sofa.  "The 
source  of  bad  manners  is  to  be  taken  into  account,  ere  the 
poor,  faulty  things  are  to  be  judged ;  so  don't  honor  her 
with  your  notice,  my  d":ir." 


376  RUBINA. 

The  bell  again  rang.  Celia  again  tripped  up  the  stairway, 
and  Milly  again  appeared  at  the  door.  "  It  must  be  Ed- 
ward," she  whispered  nervously.  "  You  don't  want  to  be 
found  sitting  here,  I  suppose  ?"  she  added,  turning  to  me. 
"  Do  you  mind  stepping  in  here  a  minute  ?"  opening,  as  she 
spoke,  the  door  of  the  cold,  dark  "  tea-room,"  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  hall.  I  rose,  and  silently  complied.  Annah 
followed.  The  room  was  damp  with  December  chilliness, 
and  dark  as  midnight,  but  for  one  ray  penetrating  through 
the  keyhole — a  kindly  gleam  from  the  hall  lamp.  I  opened 
the  door  on  a  crack,  and  looked  out.  A  tall,  thin  young 
man  entered,  fashionably  apparelled,  who,  I  suppose,  was 
"  Edward,"  as  he  got  a  very  cordial  greeting.  I  think  I 
must  be  truthful,  and  record,  in  addition  to  sundry  favors,  a 
kiss  given  and  taken,  while  Celia  discreetly  averted  her  gaze. 

"Have  you  company  ?"  he  asked,  while  arranging  his  shining 
beaver  on  the  rack.  "  I  won't  detain  you  from  your  friends." 

She  lowered  her  voice,  but  I  caught  the  reply  distinctly : 

"  Only  some  of  our  backwood  cousins,  who  have  quartered 
themselves  on  paw,  just  after  the  usual  fashion  of  such  folks, 
you  know." 

"  Verdant,  of  course  ?"  laughed  Edward,  twining  his 
arm  about  her  waist,  and  bestowing  upon  the  upturned,  ex- 
pectant lips  another  delicately-dropped  kiss. 

"  Oh,  you  can't  ever  imagine !  I  promise  you  some  rare 
fun,  only  paw  must  not  see  us — they  call  him  Uncle  John  ! 
only  think  of  it.  Paw  is  completely  taken  up  with  them, 
calls  them  wild  flowers,  and  all  that.  Well,  they're  dande- 
lions, if  any  thing,  I  guess ;  homely  stuff  as  c;in  be !" 

Edward  simpered  :  "  I  thought  your  friends  didn't  usually 
carry  a  brown  hair  trunk.  I  never  saw  but  one  before.  My 
grandmother  has  one  in  th<j  attic,  full  of  old  relics.  She  keeps 


RUBIXA.  377 

it  religiously  secure,  for  the  sake  of  old  times,  I  suppose. 
Queer  old  girl  she  is.  But  where  are  they  .?"  He  looked 
curiously  in  at  the  vacant  drawing-room. 

"  Well,"  she  replied,  hesitatingly,  "  I  put  them  in  the  tea- 
room ;  it's  rather  coldish,  I  expect,  but  I  shan't  have  them  in 
here,  that's  certain.  One  hardly  knows  what  to  do  with 
them.  It  won't  do  to  stow  them  in  the  basement  among  the 
servants.  You  see,  paw  left  strict  orders  to  send  the  carriage 
for  them,  but  I  forgot,  you  know ;  and  they  think  that  he 
forgot  to  tell  us  of  their  coming.  I  hope  they  feel  comfort- 
ably over  it.  I  told  maw  Pd  fix  'em.  Serves  'em  right,  too, 
if  such  folks  will  poke  themselves  where  they  ain't  wanted." 

At  this  juncture  they  got  out  of  my  sight  and  hearing ; 
and  the  heavy  door  crashed  to,  and  shut  them  in  the  draw- 
ing-room. I  went  into  the  hall,  meeting  Celia  coming  to 
call  us  to  supper.  She  led  the  way  down  stairs,  through  a 
narrow  entry  lit  by  a  hanging  camphene  lamp,  to  a  pleasant 
dining-room  beyond.  A  fire  burned  in  a  large  box  stove. 
A  gay  oil-cloth  carpet  covered  the  floor ;  a  white  linen  crumb- 
cloth  was  spread  beneath  the  square  cherry  table.  Gayly 
painted  shades  hung  at  the  windows.  The  broad  sill  of  one 
was  filled  with  plants,  stunted  and  sickly  looking.  A  strag- 
gling, neglected  cactus — its  pot  labelled  "  case-kuife  variety" 
— and  a  thriftless  "Jerusalem  cherry-tree,"  kept  company 
with  a  tall,  spindling  "  lemon-tree,"  which  Celia,  officiously 
compassionating  my  ignorance,  informed  me  had  "  never 
borne,  though  it  had  been  noc'lated  twice."  In  a  corner,  on 
the  floor,  uprose  a  trim  shaft  of  "  oleander,"  its  top  spread- 
ing out  in  a  circle  of  drooping,  glossy  leaves,  crowned  by 
fragrant,  rose-tipped  buds.  The  other  window-sill  held  two 
canaries,  in  separate  cages — tuneless,  now,  on  their  perches ; 
each  yellow  head  tucked  from  sight,  but  emerging  quickly  at 


378  RUBESTA. 

our  approach.  Four  black  bead-like  orbs  scanned  us.  I 
noted  these  things  as  I  took  a  seat  at  the  table.  This  was 
spread  with  hospitable  abundance.  I  was  both  hungry  and 
thirsty,  and  I  did  the  meal  full  justice,  in  spite  of  the  pert 
Celia's  constant  gaze.  Her  sentinel  aspect  operated  with  a 
different  effect  on  Annah,  who  tasted  every  thing  in  the 
tiniest  imaginable  bits,  looking  the  while  heartily  home-sick. 
After  this  cheerless  meal  was  ended,  I  drew  a  chair  to  the 
stove,  and  she  drew  a  stool  beside  it,  resting  her  tired  head 
in  my  lap.  I  stroked  her  beautiful  hair  fondly.  "  Don't," 
she  whispered,  convulsively,  "  don't  touch  me,  or  speak  to 
me,  for  I  shall  cry."  I  peeped  into  her  eyes  smilingly;  but 
finding  them  already  filled  with  tears,  and  the  sweet  mouth 
quivering  with  a  strong  desire  to  shed  them  down,  I  averted 
my  head,  and  folded  my  arms  in  silence. 

My  aunt  came  soon  after.  I  recognized  her  voice  in  the 
hall,  confirming  Milly's  direction  about  our  ridiculed  bag- 
gage. She  did  not  come  down  to  see  us ;  she  entered  the 
drawing-room. 

"  Not  a  very  flattering  reception,"  whispered  pride,  bit- 
terly. 

"  But  you  must  make  the  best  of  it.  It  is  too  late  to  go 
back  ;  besides,  that  would  be  cowardice.  If  you  cannot  do 
as  you  would  like,  you  must  do  as  you  can,"  subjoined  pru- 
dence. 

I  listened  to  her  worldly  maxims,  and  put  pride  resolutely 
down.  It  seemed  as  though  hours  passed  over  our  heads 
while  we  sat  there.  I  had  no  means  for  ascertaining,  but 
probably  not  more  than  one  hour  elapsed.  The  servants 
chatted  and  laughed  boisterously  with  their  "  followers"  in 
the  kitchen.  Occasionally  Celiacarne  in  and  replenished  the 
fire.  I  was  grateful  for  this  solitary  attention,  and  I  pre- 


RUBINA.  379 

sume  looked  so ;  for  her  insolent  airs  melted  a  little,  and  an 
expression  of  shanie  grew  upon  her  face.  During  one  of  the 
pauses  which  greeted  her  return  to  the  kitchen,  I  heard  her 
exclaim : 

"  It's  a  downright  shame,  after  all.  /  wouldn't  like  to  be 
treated  so,  an'  it  wouldn't  set  very  well  on  their  stomachs 
either,  I  reckon." 

I  lost  the  rest,  and  again  chewed  the  cud  of  silence.  I 
had  thoroughly  masticated  it;  abstracted  all  the  nutriment 
it  may  be  supposed  to  contain,  and  was  yawning  wearily, 
when  the  bell  again  rang,  and  this  peal  sounded  joyous  to 
me,  for  my  uncle  arrived.  He  came  down  directly,  and  gave 
us  a  cordial  welcome — more  cordial,  I  suspect,  that  his  wife's 
sharp  eyes  did  not  scan  it. 

"  I  intended  to  meet  you  at  the  depot,  but  an  engagement 
called  me  away.  You  came  just  as  well  under  John's  guid- 
ance, 1  trust,"  said  he,  inquiringly.  "You  met  with  no 
trouble  r 

"  Not  the  least,  uncle." 

"  I'm  glad  of  it.  It  rather  worried  me  after  I  had  gone, 
for  fear  you  might  not  see  John,  or  he  might  not  find  you. 
But  why  do  you  sit  down  here  in  the  cold?  Come  up 
where  you  belong.  Come  !"  He  took  Annah's  hands,  drew 
one  under  his  arm,  and  marched  away.  I  followed.  "  My 
dear" — to  his  wife — "  we  must  try  to  make  the  girls  feel  at 
home — "  he  broke  short  off,  when  her  greeting  revealed  that 
she  had  not  before  seen  us.  She  frigidly  extended  the  tips 
of  her  cold  fingers.  "  Is  your  aunt  quite  well  ?"  she  asked, 
carelessly. 

"Very  well,  ma'am.  She  sent  you  her  best  regards,"  I 
answered. 

"  Thank  you,"  she^  replied,  unconcernedly.     "  We  heard 


880  RUBLKTA. 

of  her  daughter's  death ;  it  was  very  sudden,  and  very  sad : 
so  young,  so  unprepared." 

I  said  nothing.  A  pause  followed,  during  which  Uncle 
Lucas  looked  uncomfortable.  Edward  and  Milly  snickered, 
and  exchanged  foolish  glances.  At  last,  ventured  Uncle  Lucas 
in  this  wise : 

"  Really,  Annah  is  getting  to  be  a  young  lady." 

Edward  at  this  nudged  Milly,  and  she  smothered  an  affected 
grin  in  her  handkerchief.  Her  father  did  not  notice  her ;  his 
gaze  was  fixed  on  Annah.  He  went  on  briskly  : 

"  Not  a  bad-looking  one,  by  any  means.  Is  she,  Hannah  ? 
Now  own  up  fair  and  square." 

"Mr.  Lucas,  you  forget  yourself,"  she  replied,  with  a 
withering  look. 

"  Well,  Mrs.  Lucas,  then.  You  see  it  comes  more  natural 
to  call  you  Hannah.  I  used  to,  and  I've  no  objections  to  the 
name  now,"  he  said. 

"It's  dreadful  old-fashioned,"  lisped  Milly. 

"  I  was  named  for  you,  aunt.  Sister  says  so,"  rather  un- 
luckily informed  Annah,  delighted  at  any  notice  being  taken 
of  her. 

"  Sister  don't  know  every  thing,"  said  her  aunt,  coolly.  "  1 
don't  consider  it  so.  The  first  letter  omitted,  makes  a  differ- 
ent sound  entirely.  I  presume  your  mother  was  ashamed  of 
the  ancient  name,  and  tried  to  modernize  it.  At  any  rate, 
you  needn't  look  for  a  present :  I  didn't  get  one  for  my  own, 
and  I  never  give  any." 

"  I  don't  expect — I  never  thought  of  that !"  said  Annah, 
hastily,  her  blue  eyes  filling  immediately. 

"Who  was  Miss  Ruby  named  for,  I  wonder?"  said  Miss 
Milly,  mockingly. 

"  I  can  tell  you,"  I  returned  :  "  I  wa^narned  for  my  grand- 


RUBINA.  381 

mother."     I  gave  her  a  defiant  glance,  which  she  treated  to 
a  cool,  insipid  smile. 

"  My  mother's  name  was  Rubina,"  interposed  Aunt  Han- 
nah, triumphantly.  "  Such  naming  don't  amount  to  much^ 
Car'line  was  great  on  pet  names,  I  see." 

"  At  least,  it  was  all  the  petting  I  ever  got.     You.  need  ' 
not  grudge  it,"  I  said. 

"  Pah  !  she  don't,"  returned  Uncle  John,  cheerfully. 

"  No.  Thank  fortune,  I'm  above  that  low  business,"  she 
returned,  with  emphasis.  Lest  she  add  something  decidedly 
unpleasant,  her  husband  interposed  quickly,  with : 

"  How  tall  Annah  is  getting !"  A  most  unfortunate  obser- 
vation, especially  when  he  added,  "  Millicent,  you  will  have 
to  look  out  now,  or  you  will  be  quite  eclipsed.  I'm  afraid 
you're  done  growing." 

She  tossed  her  flaxen  ringlets  scornfully.  "  I  don't  want 
to  be  any  taller.  I  wouldn't  be  for  the  world.  I  think 
Ruby  is  too  tall  for  a  woman ;  and  she's  got  such  a  horrid 
stoop.  I've  "noticed  all  tall  women  do  stoop.  Annah  will  in 
time,"  she  finished  maliciously.  Her  mother  smiled  ap- ' 
provingly,  and  cast  a  look  at  her  meek  little  spouse — who  sat 
quite  disconcerted — implying  that  he  had  got  it  now :  he 
had  better  be  careful. 

"  Oh,  Uncle  John,"  I  thought,  "  you  are  but  a  poor  little 
dove  between  two  hawks.  Why  will  you  rustle  your  sober 
plumage  right  into  their  outstretched  talons?"  He  could 
not  avoid  putting  in  a  sort  of  an  apology  for  my  infirmity  : 

"  Poor  Ruby's  stoop  is  occasioned  by  overmuch  work  and 
study,  and  at  all  events  is  praiseworthy,"  said  he. 

"  Do  let  my  round  shoulders  alone,  Uncle,"  I  put  in,  im- 
patiently. "  They  matter  to  none  but  their  owner." 

Milliceut  resumed,  perversely :  "  Now  I  don't  want  to  look 


382  EUBINA. 

down  on  my  husband,  as  Ruby  will  have  to  do ;  she  never 
will  marry  a  man  as  tall  as  herself.  Little  men  always  pick 
for  tall  wives." 

"  Perhaps  she  won't  marry  at  all,"  murmured  Edward  5 
"  old  maids  are  not  yet  a  defunct  species." 

I  was  now  exasperated.  "  Don't  be  in  the  least'  alarmed, 
Millicent,"  I  retorted,  sarcastically,  eying  her  leisurelv  from 
top  to  toe — a  look  I  have  found  especially  irritating,  when 
levelled  at  myself — "  you,  at  all  events,  never  will  look  down 
on  your  future  husband,  either  physically  or  mentally.  That 
towering  advantage  must  assuredly  be  his.  Rest  in  peace  on 
that  score." 

"Good !"  chuckled  Edward,  rubbing  his  little  white  palms 
together;  then  murmuring  softly  aside,  "you  have 'found 
your  match  there."  She  turned  on  him  an  ireful  glance,  and 
biting  her  bloodless  -lips,  meditated  a  cutting  retort,  which  he 
averted  by  rising  and  bowing  his  adieu. 

After  this  unexpected  rejoinder  from  the  country  cousin, 
constraint  fell  on  the  inharmonious  circle. 

"  Are  you  sleepy  ?"  asked  my  uncle,  presently,  of  Annah. 

"  I  should  like  to  go  to  bed,"  she  answered,  timidly. 

"  You  shall,"  he  responded,  in  his  kindest  tone. 

"  Yes,"  said  Aunt  Hannah,  pointedly,  "  you  can  retire" 

"  Certainly,"  echoed  Millicent — rising  and  ringing  the  bell. 
"  Celia" — to  the  advancing  servant,  "  show  these  ladies  to 
their  apartment." 

"  I  wish  I  could  go  with  you,  Ruby,"  observed  Annah, 
disconsolately,  as  we  stood  alone  in  our  room;  "I  can  see 
they  don't  want  me  here.  Milly  never  shook  hands." 

"  That's  nothing,"  I  said,  decisively. 

"  I  think  it's  a  great  deal,"  she  returned,  naively. 

"  I  wish  I  could  take  you,"  I  said.     "  I  quite  repent  bring- 


RUBINA.  383 

ing  you  here.  You  evidently  will  have  many  trials,  taking 
this  night  for  a  specimen.  Now,  when  you  feel  desponding 
and  impatient,  and  almost  forsaken,  you  will  turn  right  about 
and  think  how  hard  your  sister  is  working  to  earn  us  a  home. 
You  feel  that,  don't  you,  darling  ?  and  know  that  as  soon  as 
I  can  I  shall  claim  you  ?" 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  mournfully. 

"  I  won't  deceive  you,"  I  continued.  "  It  will  not  be  very 
soon ;  perhaps  not  for  years ;  but  you  have  a  friend  in  Uncle 
John,  who  offers  you  advantages  not  to  be  lightly  rejected. 
They  are  worth  a  little  endurance,"  I  said,  cheerfully. 

"Yes,  indeed,  Ruby.  I  don't,  mean  to  complain.  We 
cannot  have  our  own  way  in  every  thing.  You  shall  see  how 
I  can  study,  and  then  we  can  some  time  teach  and  live 
together."  She  bravely  choked  down  the  rising  home-sick- 
ness. I  steadfastly  encouraged  her  philosophy,  as  I  busily 
put  the  room  in  order. 

"To  think  that  they  should  laugh  at  our  mother's 
trunk,"  said  she,  an  indignant  flush  mounting  to  her  fair 
cheek. 

"  Never  mind.  I  shall  take  it.  You  will  need  none.  See  ! 
here  is  a  tiny  drawer,  just  large  enough,  and  your  books  will 
do  very  well  on  top.  Oh  !  I  shall  see  you  many  a  time  here 
in  my  thought,  and  waft  you  a  kiss  at  the  sight.  I'm  afraid 
I  shall  get  none  back." 

"  No,  for  I  shan't  know  where  to  send  them,"  she  an- 
swered, thoughtfully. 

"I  shall  write  you  every  week,  my  pet,  and  you  will  do 
the  same.  Oh !  we  shall  have  rare  letters.  You  will  tell  me 
every  thing  that  happens,  and  you  don't  know  how  I  shall 
watch  and  long  for  them." 

"  I  see  one  drawback,"  she  said,  anxiously." 


384  KUBINA. 

"Do  you?  .Whatisiti  We  will  fight  the  monster,"  I 
returned. 

"  I  write  so  very,  very  poorly !"  with  a  deep-dr*awn  sigh. 

"That's  true  enough,"  I  laughed.  "  Never  fear  but  that 
I  shall  decipher  them,  and  in  the  mean  time  you  must  give 
attention  to  that  branch  of  your  education." 

"  What  shall  we  do  to-day  ?"  asked  Annah,  sleepily  open- 
ing her  blue  eyes  the  next  morning. 

"  'Pears  to  me,  Ann,  if  I'se  you,  I'd  git  up  the  fust  onset ; 
but  I  don't  know.  I'm  only  a  passenger,"  I  answered,  bend- 
ing over  her. 

"  Oh !  that's  Debby,"  she  cried :  "  dear  old  Debby,  I  want 
to  see  her." 

"  And,"  I  continued,  more  soberly,  "  I  am  going  to  write ; 
then  we  shall  go  down  to  breakfast,  and  then  we  may  ven- 
ture on  a  walk."  I  was  answering  an  advertisement  in  the 
morning  paper  for  "  a  governess  for  small  children ;  one  of 
prepossessing  appearance  preferred.  Address  Mrs.  Selwyn, 
No.  — , street,  New  York." 

At  breakfast  I  showed  it  to  Uncle  John.  He  read  it 
slowly.  "  I  don't  know  about  it.  It  don't  specify  terms,  or 
say  how  many  children,"  he  remarked,  in  a  doubtful  tone. 

"  What  of  that  f '  cried  his  wife,  quickly.  "  I'm  sure  I 
see  nothing  amiss  in  it,  Mr.  Lucas.  You  don't  expect  every 
one  to  write  an  advertisement  as  you  would,  do  you?" 

I  smiled  haughtily  at  her  clumsily  masked  desire  to  get 
rid  of  me.  I  was  determined  to  send  my  letter,  at  all  events, 
and  await  the  result. 

A  week  elapsed  before  an  answer  came ;  a  week  full  of  tho 
same  petty  annoyances,  petty  slights,  and  visible  sneers.  I 
did  not  appear  to  notice  them.  This  plan  succeeded  well. 
I  overheard  Miss  Milly  and  her  mother  wondering  at,  an«l 


BUBINA.  385 

regaling  themselves  with  laughter  at  my  simplicity.  Very 
unflattering  epithets  they  bestowed  also;  Edward  joining 
in  the  fun — if  fun  it  was — of  running  down  two  defenceless 
strangers.  His  silly-sally  angered  me  more  than  all  the  rest. 
I  quivered  sometimes  in  impotent  rage,  and  it  was  only  then, 
when  striking  against  the  bars  and  bolts  of  my  prison,  that 
I  felt  how  really  helpless  I  was  to  retort — to  fling  back  a 
thunderbolt  which  would  stun  him  into  silence.  This,  I  felt, 
was  what  they  ached  to  have  me  do — lose  my  temper,  only 
to  find  it  again  when  pitilessly  thrust  from  their  door.  For 
An nah's  sake,  and  for  Uncle  John's  peace  of  mind,  I  forbore, 
and  I  think  my  resolute  silence  and  unheeding  ways  tor- 
mented them  beyond  any  retort.  In  the  mean  time  I  bathed 
my  wounded  pride  in  the  consolatory  reflection  of  my  speedy 
absence  ;  but  I  shivered  anew  for  Annah.  "  I  must  work 
the  harder,"  I  thought ;  and  each  taunt  acted  as  a  spur — 
painful,  but  necessary  to  goad  me  on  to  greater  effort. 

Mrs.  Selwyn  wished  me  to  come  immediately,  but  said 
nothing  of  terms  or  the  number  of  my  pupils.  I  did  not 
think  it  strange. 

"I  wish  I  could  go  down  with  you,"  said  Uncle  John, 
thoughtfully. 

Aunt  Hannah  gave  him  a  look  of  astonishment.  "  Well, 
why  don't  you  ?"  she  asked,  icily. „ 

"I — I  don't  see  how  I  can,  just  at  present.  If  Ruby 
would  be  content  to  wait  a  little,  I  would  try ." 

I  broke  in :  "I  shall  write  for  them  to  meet  me  on  Satur- 
day. I  shall  get  along  well  enough,  Uncle  John." 

Aunt  Hannah  sipped  her  coffee  in  silence.     She  did  not 
think  it  politic  to  precipitate  a  longer  stay  by  too  open 
repugnance  therefor.     I  have  a  strong  spice  of  the  contrary 
in  my  disposition. 
17 


386  KUBINA. 

Saturday  came  all  too  soon.  T  dreaded  unspeakably 
taking  this  solitary  step — fraught  with  unknown  combina- 
tions of  good  or  evil.  Hitherto  I  had  been  trying  my  self- 
reliant  wings  in  the  shadow  of  some  friendly  nest.  There 
yet  remained  for  them  the  eddying  circles  in  mid-air,  and 
the — hoped-for — long  flight  onward.  The  parting  with 
Annah  was  a  trial  unavoidable.  She  clung  frantically  to  me, 
rejecting  solace.  My  aunt  gave  me  her  hand,  wishing  me 
"  success  in  my  undertaking,"  as  coolly  as  if  I  were  a  total 
stranger — whom  by  chance  she  met — bound  on  a  mission  to 
Liberia.  She  had  no  emotion  to  waste ;  for  which  I  was 
devoutly  thankful,  as  I  thereby  husbanded  my  store — not 
destined  certainly,  as  yet,  to  poverty.  Milly,  seated  in  the 
window  on  a  divan,  just  lifted  her  eyes  from  a  fascinating 
novel,  and  bade  me  a  decently  civil  "  good- day,"  which  I 
returned  in  coin  of  the  same  stamp. 

Thus  I  passed  from  the  portal  of  this  stately  mansion,  and, 
mentally,  shook  off  the  dust  from  my  feet. 

Uncle  John  was  to  go  with  me  to  the  station ;  a  kindly 
offer — its  value  enhanced  by  the  fact  that  it  was  made  in 
spite  of  his  wife's  sneering,  steady  gaze.  The  effort  which 
it  cost  him  was,  however,  fully  rewarded  by  the  conscious 
sundering  of  the  first  powerful  coil  around  his  manhood. 
His  meek  demeanor  straightened  into  a  near  approach  to 
dignity,  as  he  followed  me  into  the  carriage.  The  driver 
cracked  his  whip.  The  horses  started.  I  leaned  forward  to 
nod  gayly  to  Annah,  who  stood  in  one  deep  crimson  embra- 
sure in  the  gorgeous  drawing-room,  one  hand  clutching  un- 
consciously the  rifted  cloud  of  snowy  lace,  the  other  shading 
her  tearful  eyes.  I  glanced  at  the  other  window,  where  Milly 
and  her  mother  stood,  pointing  to  my  little  hair  trunk  strap- 
ped on  the  outside,  both  heartily  laughing.  Suddenly  Milly 


RUBINA.  887 

pointed  to  Annah.  In  a  flash  I  saw  Aunt  Hannah  dart 
forward  and  strike  her  hand  from  its  grasp  on  her  elegant 
curtains,  just  as  the  carriage  wheeled  around  the  curb  and 
rolled  heavily  away.' 

"  Uncle  John — you  don't  object  to  my  calling  you  so  f"  I 
said,  with  a  questioning  glance.  He  colored  visibly. 

"  No,  indeed ;  I  like  it,"  he  answered,  warmly.  "  But  we 
all  have  our  little  peculiarities,  you  know.  It  always  comes 
natural  to  me  to  say  Hannah.  The  minister  called  us  John 
and  Hannah  when  he  married  us  ;  may  be  that's  the  reason," 
he  finished,  apologetically. 

"  I  was  merely  going  to  request  you  to  let  me  know  im- 
mediately, if  it  should  be  best  to  take  Annah  away,"  I  said, 


"  I  will — I  promise,"  he  said,  earnestly.  Again  he  colored, 
fidgeted  a  while  on  the  seat,  and  finally  stammered,  "  How 
well  off  are  you,  my  good  little  niece  ?" 

"  Oh  !  I  have  a  little  fortune  in  prospect,"  I  said.  ' 

"  I'm  glad  of  that,"  he  responded  heartily,  "  but  it  won't 
supply*  present  wants.  Let  me  add  to  it  a  trifle."  He  drew 
out  a  plethoric  pocket-book.  "The  richer  should  always 
divide  with  the  poorer,"  he  added,  laughing;  "so  if  you  can 
prove  yourself  that,  why  I'll  take  my  share." 

He  shut  his  eyes,  and  held  out  his  hand.  I  dropped  my 
little  green  silk,  ivory -ringed  purse  therein.  "  What  a  genial 
little  man  you  are,"  thought  I,  "  when  away  from  your  wife's 
eyes !"  He  counted  my  purse's  contents.  All  told,  to  every 
stray  copper  coin,  they  reached  the  overwhelming  magnitude 
of  seven  dollars.  Uncle  John  laughed. 

"  Just  about  half  what  Milly  asks  for  a  new  bonnet,"  quoth 
he,  "  and  you  begin  life  with  it.  Well,  capital  will  grow  if 
properly  managed." 


388  EUBINA. 

He  crumpled  a  bill  into  one  end  of  the  shrunken  silk ;  a 
bright  gold  piece  balanced  the  other.  His  kindness  ended 
not  here.  He  discharged  the  hack,  procured  my  ticket, 
placed  me  comfortably  in  the  car,  and  handed  me  a  silver 
coin. 

"  If  Mrs.  What's-her-name  don't  meet  you,  give  a  driver 
this,  and  tell  him  her  direction.  I  hope  you  will  find  it  all 
right.  I'll  see  after  your  baggage." 

"Uncle,  how  can  I  ever  thank  you?"  I  murmured,  clum- 
sily. 

"  Pooh !  don't  make  me  feel  ashamed,"  he  interrupted, 
laughing.  "  Good-by,  and  Heaven  bless  you  !  Come  back  to 
us  if  any  thing  is  the  matter,  my  child,"  he  added,  earnestly, 
and,  wringing  my  hand,  he  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

MRS.  SEI/WYN  did  meet  me.  I  overheard  a  gayly -dressed 
little  lady  inquiring  for  me  among  all  the  solitary  lady  pas- 
sengers. My  turn  procured  her  an  affirmative  answer. 

"Come  this  way,"  she  cried,  quickly.  "  Thank  Heaven, 
I've  got  the  right  one  at  last.  I  believe  I  asked  three-score 
and  ten,  and  angered  most  of  them,  of  course ;  every  woman, 
be  she  named  Jones,  thinks  her  name  a  beauty,  and  all  others 
horrid,"  she  laughed. 

She  was  a  suave  little  body ;  she  put  me  politely  into  a 
handsome  carriage,  entertaining  me  all  the  way  to  her  resi- 
dence with  a  smooth  string  of  easily-spoken  phrases ;  in  any- 
body else,  they  would  have  sounded  uncouth  and  abruptly 
delivered. 


BUBHSTA.  389 

"  I  declare  this  carriage  seems  like  a  hearse,  Max" — to 
the  footman — "let  down  the  windows.-  Ever  been  to  Xcw 
York  before  I" — to  myself.  I  informed  her  of  those  early 
years  with  a  precision  which  must  have  amused  her ;  but  she 
gave  no  sign. 

"  Possible  ?  Did  you,  indeed  ?  I'm  sure  you'll  like  it — • 
so  much  to  be  seen — such  a  gay  city — perfect  panorama  all 
the  time.  We  shall  have  charming  times.  Dear  old  Broad- 
way ! — as  we  drove  slowly  through  the  brilliant  thoroughfare 
— none  like  it  in  any  other  city.  Such  shops,  such  theatres, 
and  operas,  and  the  like  !  Oh !  in  an  exceeding  short  time 
you  will  be  enchanted." 

I  wondered  if  she  forgot,  or  only  for  the  present  politely 
ignored,  the  fact  that  she  was  addressing  a  governess — a 
miserable,  obscure  creature,  who  had  neither  part  nor  parcel 
in  such  pleasures,  or  heart  to  appreciate  and  enjoy  them ; 
who  had  been  hired  for  the  express  purpose  of  staying  at 
home  in  some  upper  chimney-corner,  secluded  from  the  gay 
area  of  the  grand  mansion  with  the  children,  while  their  lady 
mother  sported  her  bright  plumage  in  the  light  of  these  and 
similar  attractions.  According  to  story-tellers,  governesses 
were  not  accustomed  to  much  attention  ;  did  not  receive  much 
sympathy  ;  led  a  slavish  life,  in  short.  Contempt  from  every 
quarter  greeted  them  oftener  than  civility,  and  gratitude  from 
either  parent  or  child,  after  devoted  service,  was  an  unlooked- 
for  payment.  "  It  appears  I  am  to  be  an  exception,"  thought 
I.  "The  rigid  rule  is  reversed  ;  or  my  ignorant  rusticity  has 
founded  too  much  faith  on  the  veracity,  of  these  complain- 
ants :  their  woes  are  imaginary,  extorting  no  sympathy  from 
the  experienced  gazer,  or  the  transient  shade  is  effectively 
deepened  into  gloomy  vistas  by  exaggerating  fingers." 

As  Madame's  conversation  neither  required  nor  seemed  to 


390  RUBINA. 

expect  any  answers — my  responses  being  treated  with  good- 
natured  indifference — I  soon  amused  myself  by  comparing 
the  lively  lady  with  her  grave  companion.  Never  was  there 
a  greater  contrast.  The  first-named  figure  wore  a  crimson 
dress,  long,  voluminous,  with  a  black  velvet  bodice,  exqui- 
sitely shaped,  and  profusely  decorated  with  lace  and  buttons. 
Over  her  sloping  shoulders  draped  gracefully  an  India  shawl; 
the  colors  warm  and  glowing.  A  jaunty  velvet  bonnet  tossed 
its  sweeping  plumes  with  her  head's  incessant  motion.  Kid 
gloves,  rounded  smoothly  over  her  taper  fingers — these  latter 
swung  to  and  fro  with  a  graceful  motion ;  an  embroidered 
silken  bag — a  fine  cambric  handkerchief  peeping  from  between 
its  strings.  '  •;•''• 

The  other  figure — I  remember  it  well,  and,  with  the  usual 
inconsistency  to  our  earlier  selves,  I  laugh  at  it  now  re- 
morselessly— was  attired  in  a  coarse  plaided  gown,  of  country 
manufacture.  A  village  mantuamaker  had  exhausted  her 
skill  thereon,  "  to  get  a  fit,"  and  signally  failed — quite  uncon- 
sciously, of  course,  to  the  artiste.  The  gored  skirts  looked 
prim  and  ungraceful ;  its  extreme  shortness  disclosed  a  pair 
of  shoes  not  worse  shaped  than  the  foot  would  inevitably 
make  them,  but  a  size  too  large  for  the  wearer.  Old  Adam 
Smith  had — after  due  measurement  of  ankle  and  instep — 
triumphantly  turned  them  off  his  last  and  pronounced  "  a 
proper,  'cute,  likely  pair  o'  ties."  In  Northfield  they  looked 
well  enough,  but  in  New  York  they  wore  upon  their  wrinkled 
surface  the  indescribable  "  not-at-horne"  air,  which  is  the  ap- 
pendage of  all  ill-at-ease  strangers.  Bonnet  several  stages 
larger  than  the  modern  "  scoop ;"  the  crown  ambitious  of 
size  ;  the  front  enormously  perpendicular,  of  green  silk,  spot- 
ted with  the  assiduous  wear  of  several  winters,  and  frayed 
around  the  edges — where  the  rigid  wire  inexorably  ap- 


BUBINA.  391 

pearcd  on  the  surface.     My  case  was  not  an  exceptional  one. 
"  Altering"  was  unknown  in  Northfield. 

A  striped  woollen  shawl  was  pinned  closely  around  the  throat 
of  this  lay  figure — the  clasp,  a  huge  darning-needle ;  its 
point  repeatedly  dipped  in  hot,  red  sealing-wax,  until  a  re- 
spectable head  had  accumulated.  la  her  hand  she  carried  a 
gray  cassimere  satchel — essentially  a  home-made  production 
— its  strings  bright-green  "  quality."  What  a  target  she  offered 
for  ridicule  !  What  a  dish  ! — infinitely  varied  to  suit  the  most 
fastidious  joker.  But  you  could  not  have  guessed  from 
Madame's  manner  that  she  did  not  consider  her  fellow-passen- 
ger a  princess.  Not  one  stray  side-glance  indicated  her  per- 
ception of  my  incongruity  with  my  elegant  surroundings.  I 
laughed  in  my  sleeve  at  the  "attractive"  answer  to  her 
advertisement,  and  vainly  wondered  what  she  thought  of  it, 
while  her  limber  tongue  kept  up  its  continual  melody. 

Aunt  Hannah  and  Milly  contrived  to  make  me  feel  every 
moment  in  their  presence  my  unfashionable  attire,  my  extreme 
poverty.  This  New  York  dame,  in  her  silks  and  satins,  with 
admirable  tact,  contrived  to  make  me  forget  it.  Ignoring  a 
consciousness  of  it  herself,  and  by  some  species  of  magnetism 
drawing  my  thoughts  from  their  centre  on  self,  I  soon  lost 
sight  of  all  else  but  her  talk  and  graceful  manner ;  by  the 
time  the  carriage  stopped  I  felt  entirely  at  ease.  The  bril- 
liant gas-light  showed  me  a  corner  house,  of  rather  imposing 
dimensions.  The  shutters  were  tightly  closed ;  no  stray 
gleam  shone  from  its  many  windows.  It  looked  solitary  ; 
deserted  amid  its  more  cheerful  neighbors.  From  these,  on 
every  side,  flickered  out  from  the  half-closed  blinds  many  a 
tender  radiance.  As  Madame  descended  the  steps,  let  down 
by  the  obsequious  footman,  she  paused,  and  half  turning  to 
me,  remarked :  "  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  I  have  several 


392  RUBINA. 

friends  staying  with  me  for  the  present,  also  my  two  sisters 
live  with  me,  but  you  will  not  mind." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  I,  "  as  my  place  is  in  the  school- 
room with  the  children."  I  said  this  rather  hastily.  I  did 
not  want  her  to  show  me  my  place;  I. knew  it  already.  I 
mentally  added,  as  I  stepped  to  the  broad  stone-flags,  "  You 
don't  expect  to  be  treated  as  an  invited  guest,  Ruby  Brooks  ? 
You  are  a  servant,  regularly  ordained ;  waiting  only  for  the 
work  to  be  given  you."  Conscience  patted  my  head,  approv- 
ingly saying :  "  Do  your  labor,  then,  honestly,  faithfully? 
with  no  expectation  of  other  reward  than  your  pecuniary 
one — save  the  recompense  of  your  pupils'  affection  and  prog- 
ress." 

At  our  ring,  the  door  immediately  opened.  "  Oh,  Angie, 
it's  you !"  said  Madame,  entering.  She  introduced  her  to 
me  as  her  sister,  with  some  remark  about  placing  her  under 
my  tuition. 

Angelica  sighed,  and  tossed  her  auburn  curls.  "  I  am  too 
old  for  that  now.  How  old  is  my  rejected  preceptress  ?"  I 
told  her.  "  And  I  am  near  thirty,"  she  said,  with  a  glance  at 
her  sister,  which  I  could  not  translate. 

"  Impossible  !"  I  said,  in  surprise.  "  I  should  not  have 
guessed  it."  I  was  then  ignorant  of  the  concealing  arts  of 
the  toilet,  and  the  friendly  hiding  of  defects  by  gas-light. 
She  laughed,  and  looked  pleased.  The  door  opposite  open- 
ed. It  was  dimly  lighted ;  but  I  saw  that  it  was  tenanted. 
Figures  clustered  in  twos  and  threes  on  sofas ;  and  lounged 
singly,  on  low,  square,  tasselled  ottomans.  Angie  pushed 
me  forward,  and  announced  my  name,  when  there  was  a 
gradual  rising ;  and  the  throng,  either  from  curiosity  or  mer- 
riment, surrounded  me.  One  turned  up  the  gas,  laughing 
at  my  start,  as  the 'vivid  flame  danced  suddenly  before  my 


RUBINA.  393 

eyes.  Angie  commanded  silence  for  the  ceremony  of  pre- 
sentation, but  was  indignantly  put  down. 

"  We  prefer  to  introduce  ourselves,"  cried  one,  stepping 
forward.  "  Theresa  Joy,  at  your  service,  marm."  She 
dropped  me  a  low  courtesy. 

Others  followed,  imitating  likewise  the  obeisance. 

"  Hush,  you  giddy  prates !  You  should  be  silent  before 
your  seniors,"  exclaimed  one,  drawing  up  her  tall  form  with 
a  praiseworthy  attempt  at  dignity. 

"  1  am  known  and  honored  under  the  lovely  designation 
of  Sally  Jones,  marm ;  not  so  charming,  quite,  as  my  person  ; 
but  answers  tolerably."  Sally  wheeled  around,  and  executed 
the  Spanish  for  iny  edification.  One  and  all  looked  wroth 
with  me,  why  I  could  not  divine.  We  were  utter  strangers ; 
they  were  guests,  I  a  servant. 

What  more  they  would  have  said  and  done  remains  un- 
chronicled,  for  the  hostess  now  entered,  real  anger  glowing 
in  her  large  black  eyes,  and  addressing  Angie  hotly,  the  rest 
shrunk  back  to  silence.  Ere  I  could  wonder  at  this  sharp 
language,  Miss  Theresa  cut  in  defiantly : 

"  Well,  she  won't  be  a  stranger  long,  will  she,  comrades  ?" 
A  chorus  of  voices  responded,  in  spite  of  Mrs.  Selwyn's 
threatening  aspect.  Then  the  dinner-bell  providentially 
sounded,  and  all  discussion  ceased.  Mrs.  Selwyn  took  me 
under  her  wing,  and  established  me  near  her  at  table. 
Dinner  proceeded  quietly.  A  well-trained  servant  waited. 
Conversation  was  carried  on  in  under-tones — almost  in  whis- 
pers. Madame  grew  confidential  with  the  advent  of  dessert, 
and  apologized  freely  for  their  previous  rudeness.  I  ven- 
tured to  slsk  if  her  friends  would  remain  long.  "  An  indefi- 
nite period,"  she  replied,  evasively. 

Then  I  asked  if  I  could  see  the  children  after  dinner.  She 
17* 


394  RUBINA. 

gave  a  little  start.  •"  Oh,  I  quite  omitted  to  tell  you,  on  our 
way  home,  that  the  darlings  are  yet  in  the  country,  sur- 
feiting themselves  with  fresh  air  and  cream."  I  was  aston- 
ished, and  I  dare  say  looked  so,  for  Mrs.  Selwyn  hastily 
added  :  "  You  think  it  strange  I  did  not  write  you  this  news. 
Well,  so  I  undoubtedly  should,  but  I  expected  them  home 
ere  you  came.  I  don't  worry  in  the  least.  I  have  great 
confidence  in  Lucy,  their  nurse.  Perhaps  she  did  not  receive 
my  letter  recalling  them.  I  shall  write  again  Monday.  A 
day  or  two  will  make  no  difference.  Ah  !  Miss  Brooks,  we 
city  mothers  sadly  neglect  such  little  matters  as  punctuality 
and  promptness.  You  shall  reform  me.  Oh,  don't  begin  to 
refuse  now !  I  assure  you  I  will  be  a  docile  pupil,  and  do 
my  best."  .-,  : 

I  tried  to  say  something  in  reply ;  but  stopped  foolishly, 
my  face  glowing  with  confusion.  All  this  was  so  strange  to 
me — Mrs.  Selwyn's  easy,  off-hand  ways,  and  short,  discon- 
nected sentences.  Then  she  besprinkled  these  latter  with 
the  oddest,  rather  bewildering  gestures — intended,  doubtless, 
to  give  emphasis  to  her  talk,  but  which  puzzled  and  con- 
fused me.  Indeed,  she  gesticulated  constantly.  When  her 
hands  were  not  in  motion,  her  head  was ;  and  her  feet,  also, 
kept  time  in  soft  pitpats  on  the  thick  carpet. 

Her  young  guests'  riotous  manners  and  loud  talking,  when 
away  from  the  restraint  of  her  presence,  puzzled  me  also.^ 
Instinct  murmured  in  my  unconventional  ears  that  it  was 
not  the  most  perfect  breeding.  I  looked  up  from  consider- 
ing these  things  to  find  Sally's  sharp  eyes  fastened  on  mine. 
"  A  penny,  Miss,  for  your  thoughts !"  holding  out  her  hand. 
"  Oh  !  girls,  she  is  actually  blushing.  Now  it's  abselutely  re- 
freshing to  see  a  blush  that  isn't  produced  by  rouge ;  it  re- 
minds one  of  all  sorts  of  verdant  things  from  that  magic  para- 


RUBINA.  395 

dise — the  country.  Cool  rushing  waters,  green  fields,  and 
rustling  foliage  appear  instantaneously  to  my  recollection  at 
witnessing  that  blush.  None  of  you  can  do  it,  girls  !" 

"  Don't  be  extravagant  of  them,  Mademoiselle,"  spoke  up 
another.  "  You  will  use  them  up  presently  ;  and  there's  no 
more  forthcoming,  when  once  they're  gone.  Better  save 
them  for  gentlemen's  admiring  glances."  One  asked  some- 
thing of  Madame  now,  answered  by  a  stealthy  look,  which 
she  appeared  to  comprehend,  for  she  adroitly  dropped  the 
subject. 

I  was  glad  to  get  to  my  room.  A  bright  fire  in  the  tiny 
grate  welcomed  me.  A  mirror  reflected  the  cheerful  glow ; 
a  toilet  amply  furnished  with — to  me  unknown — pomades 
and  powders  stood  beneath,  draped  in  snowy  dimity.  A 
pretty  carpet ;  an  easy-chair  wheeled  before  the  fire ;  a  low 
bedstead,  with  snowy  counterpane  and  plump  ruffled  pillows, 
in  one  corner;  white  holland  shades  at  the  windows — this 
was  my  peaceful-looking  nest. 

Ere  I  closed  my  eyelids  late  that  night,  I  reflected  long ; 
I  pondered  well  my  prospects.  They  seemed  to  stare  back 
at  me  with  a  hopeful  glow.  Common  sense  urged  me  to 
feel  grateful  for  such  a  flattering  reception,  "so  different 
from  your  expectations,"  she  whispered.  "  The  drudgery  of 
a  governess  is  a  myth.  Your  lot  is  cast  among  pleasant 
places.  Sleep,  then,  in  happy  oblivion  of  all  distracting 
thoughts,"  she  commanded.  Yet,  do  what  I  would,  a  satis- 
fied feeling  would  not  enter  into  my  heart.  I  explained  this 
by  saying,  over  and  over  again,  that  it  was  merely  the  chill 
reality  always  casts  when  different  from  expectation  ;  such 
whimsical  creatures  are  we ;  and  I  ended  by  rating  myself 
as  a  fool,  and  trying  to  lose  sight  of  my  miserable  imbecility 
in  slumber.  The  city's  roar  sounded  far,  far  in  the  distance. 


396  •  RUBINA. 

I  realized,  in  listening  to  the  faint,  yet  distant,  rumble  of  vehi- 
cles; to  the  policeman's  frequent  rattles,  and  the  shouts  and 
cries  afar  off,  that  1  had  indeed  left  the  still,  waveless  pool 
of  quiet,  for  the  eddying  circles  of  the  whirlpool  change. 

The  gray  of  morning  faintly  glimmered  over  the  lofty  roofs 
and  spires.  The  street  lamps  were  extinguished  ere  the 
revellers  below  sought  their  couches.  I  heard  continuous 
arrivals  for  a  long  time  after  I  had  resigned  myself  to  slum- 
ber. A  piano,  too,  woke  music  throughout  the  midnight 
hours,  and  a  sweet  voice  occasionally  accompanied  it.  Then 
my  strained  ears  caught  a  muffled  sound  as  of  dancers  on  the 
thick  carpet,  and  frequent,  merry  laughs. 

As  may  be  imagined,  I  slept  only  at  intervals ;  tired  na- 
ture succumbing  during  a  momentary  hush  in  the  festivities, 
only  to  rouse  again  with  a  start  at  being  caught  napping ; 
only  to  rise  in  bed  and  stare  around  me  bewildered,  as  a 
louder  laugh  or  a  gayer  measure  rattled  out  furiously,  and 
floated  up  the  staircase.  Once  I  rose  and  peeped  through 
the  windows.  As  I  expected,  a  flood  of  light  oozed  through 
the  windows  below,  illumining  the  street.  The  houses  oppo- 
site were  dark  and  silent.  I  came  fully  to  the  conclusion 
that  there  was  a  party  below  stairs ;  a  large  one  evidently, 
and  a  gay  one  certainly.  I  stole  to  my  bed,  and  again  slept. 

The  brief  clang  of  opening  and  closing  doors  in  the  cor- 
ridors again  aroused  me — then  all  was  silent.  I  rose  softly  and 
dressed.  Then  I  threw  wide  open  the  shutters  and  leaned  out. 
Sweet  to  me  looked  that  holy  Sabbath  morn.  The  sun  was 
risen,  but  the  thick  clustering  house-tops  hid  his  disc  from 
me ;  only  glittering,  radiating  spears  of  light  clambered  re- 
solutely over  them,  and  told  me  that  he  was  inarching  boldly 
towards  mid-heaven.  Bells  floated  soft  vibrations  on  the 
cool  air.  The  Angelus  tolled  its  mystic  trio  for  worshipping 


RUBINA.  397 

thousands ;  solemnly,  slowly  swung  the  prayerful  melody. 
A  peaceful  quiet — born,  alas !  of  sloth — brooded  over  the 
great  artery  of  sound.  It  seemed  as  if  the  vanished  night 
possessed  some  cleansing  property,  making  purity  usurp  the 
place  of  poverty  and  filth  in  the  almost  vacant  streets. 

As  I  leaned  out  of  the  open  window,  indulging  in  a  reve- 
ry,  half  sad,  half  doubtful,  a  low  tap  sounded  on  my  door, 
and  a  housemaid  entered  with  my  breakfast,  and  the  informa- 
tion that  "  they  all  took  it  in  their  rooms."  '  The  day  glided 
away ;  the  eve  was  passed  much  as  the  preceding  eve.  All 
appeared  to  think  that  with  twilight  the  sacred  character  of 
the  day  was  ended,  and  light  talk,  interspersed  with  loud 
laughter,  resounded  through  the  house.  I  kept  in  my  room, 
but  was  sent  for  from  the  parlor,  much  against  my  inclina- 
tion. This  was  a  large  apartment,  the  walls  covered  with 
gilt  paper,  with  crimson  bordering.  The  same  rich  hue  pre- 
dominated'every  where.  The  carpet  was  crimson  and  white  ; 
the  couches  and  divans  crimson  velvet.  Oil  paintings,  in 
massive  frames,  hung  from  the  lofty  ceiling  by  large  crimson 
cords  with  heavy  tassels.  Mirrors  flashed  back  light  from 
either  end,  and  from  the  marble-carved  mantle.  Plenty  of 
nicknacks  strewed  the  oval  centre-table.  A  pretty  stand  of 
beautiful  shells  lurked  in  one  of  the  corners ;  but  not  a  book 
or  pamphlet  was  anywhere  visible. 

The  ladies  had  retired  to  their  rooms,  but  they  presently 
re-entered,  arrayed  in  full  evening  costume.  Silks  of  the 
gayest  hue  rustled  stiffly  in,  and  cloud-like  muslin  floated 
airily  around.  On  their  bare  necks  and  arms  flashed  dia- 
monds and  rubies.  I  found  much  amusement  in  watching 
them.  Of  the  eight  guests,  one  Lucia  was  by  far  the  most 
beautiful.  Her  fair  cheeks  glowed  like  the  pearly  opal 
shells  I  was  surveying ;  her  ivory  neck  was  encircled  with 


398  RUBINA. 

gems ;  they  glowed  likewise  like  eyes  of  flame  on  her  fair 
round  arms.  Pure  white,  of  some  fleecy  material,  swayed 
with  each  undulating  movement  of  her  graceful  form.  Her 
heavy  braids  of  soft  brown  hair  were  looped  low  at  the  back 
to  her  shapely  head.  Large,  dark-blue  eyes  completed  the 
attractive  physiognomy. 

Sally  Jones  was  present — a  dark,  would-be  queen.  Amber- 
hued  satin  set  off  her  tall  form-  well.  A  string  of  these  beads 
twined  around  her  massive  throat,  and  wove  themselves  into 
bracelets  or  her  muscular  arms.  Crimson  flowers  drooped 
from  her  black  tresses.  A  girdle  of  the  same  color  wound 
carelessly  across  her  bosom  and  tied  in  a  knot  at  her  side. 
These  two  figures — a  perfect  contrast — I  watched,  to  the 
exclusion  of  all  others.  I  thought  there  seemed  a  sort  of 
rivalry  between  them ;  at  all  events,  Miss  Jones  bestowed 
upon  Miss  Lucia  no  very  amiable  glances. 

"  Are  you  a  nun,  Miss  Brooks,  that  you  affect  such  ex- 
treme simplicity  of  attire?"  suddenly  inquired  a  voice  near  me. 

"  I  did  not  know  your  customs,"  1  said,  timidly ;  "  and  I 
have  nothing  wherewith  to  follow  them.  I  feel  strangely 
out  of  place  here." 

"Never  mind;  you  will  .soon  learn  them,"  she  said, 
carelessly. 

"  Is  this  a  usual  one  ?"  I  asked,  absently,  listening  to  the 
shouts  of  laughter  from  Jones. 

"  What?  dressing  for  evening?"  she  asked,  with  a  laugh. 
"Oh!  yes.  Is  there  any  thing  wrong  about  it?" 

"Oh!  I  did  not  think  of  that,"  I  returned.  She  con- 
tinued, in  a  lower  tone  : 

"  We  each  have  brothers  and  cousins  in  the  city,  and  this 
is  the  only  leisure  they  have ;  so  Mrs.  Selwyn  invites  then)  to 
pass  it  with  her,  and  we  just  take  a  fancy  to  dress  a  little 


RUBINA.  399 

more  than  ordinary.  We  go  out  very  little,  Madame  keeps 
us  so  close." 

"At  all  events,  when  wearied  of -your  hostess,  you  can 
return  to  your  own  homes,"  I  said,  consolingly.  She  was 
silent.  "  Mrs.  Selwyn's  sisters  do  not  resemble  her  at  all," 
I  remarked  presently. 

"  Which  do  you  mean  ?"  she  asked,  quickly.  I  point- 
ed them  out,  at  which  she  curled  her  cherry  lip  disdain- 
fully. 

"  We  are  all  her  sisters  upon  occasion "  She  stopped 

short  on  seeing  my  questioning  glance. 

The  bell  rang,  and  she  turned  away.  I  seized  the  favora- 
ble opportunity  and  darted  up-stairs  to  my  room,  as  I  fondly 
hoped  without  being  observed.  There,  I  finished  a  long 
letter  to  Annah,  and  also  a  tale,  commenced  a  year  ago  in 
Northfield.  For  a  long  time  I  sat  turning  its  leaves,  gazing 
dreamily  at  the  familiar  words,  and  pleasedly  speculating  as 
to  its  probable  fate.  Of  faith  I  possessed  an  abundance. 
Not  a  doubt  had  I  but  that  it  would  find  ready,  even  eager, 
publishers,  and  I  considered — when  it  reached  the  eyes  of 
the  great  public — my  fortune  and  fame  as  won.  I  resolved 
to  sally  forth  with  it,  done  up  in  a  neat  roll,  and  tied  with  a 
blue  ribbon,  early  in  the  morning.  Then  I  reflected,  with 
serene  content,  that  many  hours  of  leisure  might  fall  to  my 
share,  after  other  legitimate  duties  were  disposed  of,  which  I 
could  fill  with  similar  occupations.  "  Madame  shall  not 
wean  me  from  such  precious  solitude,"  thought  I.  "  It  is 
certainly  kind  in  her  to  invite  me  to  the  parlor,  but  it  is 
done  only  in  kindness  ;  not  because  she  wants  me.  '  It  is 
not  expected,  either,  that  you  will  rush  eagerly  forward  to 
comply ;  you  do  not  desire  it,'  put  in  self-respect.  '  They 
are  uncongenial  souls  to  yours,  doubtless  immeasurably  su- 


400  RUBINA. 

perloF :  let  them,  then,  keep  to  their  height ;  you  will  con- 
tentedly sink  to  your  happy  level.'  " 

The  family  conclave  below  stairs  grew  riotous ;  noisy 
bursts  of  merriment  greeted,  from  time  to  time,  my  peace- 
loving  ears.  Sunday  had  hitherto  been  observed  by  all 
around  me  as  a  period  of  scrupulous  rest;  as  a  day  set 
sacredly  apart  for  reviving  holy  memories,  for  shaking  off 
from  the  heavenward-bound  soul  the  sordid  dust  of  clinging 
worldliness.  I  could  not  help  shuddering  to  think  what  those 
thoughtless  souls  below  stairs  rendered  it :  a  carnival  season 
of  routs,  and  a  mere  mockery  of  observance.  In  the  very 
midst  of  the  clamor  I  went  to  sleep — previously  taking  the 
precaution  to  bolt  my  door.  I  had  never  been  accustomed 
to  do  this,  and  the  previous  night  had  forgotten  it :  now,  I 
reflected,  all  things  are  changed ;  it  is  well  enough  to  be  care- 
ful. I  had  occasion  to  congratulate  my  unusual  care,  for  I 
heard  the  knob  softly  tried  late  into  the  night-  by  whom,  or 
for  what  purpose,  I  was  quite  too  startled  to  ask. 

I  went  out  on  the  morrow,  after  undergoing  considerable 
questioning  from  Mrs.  Selwyn,  and  a  good  deal  of  raillery 
from  her  guests  at  my 'ribbon-tied  package.  I  do  not  propose 
to  relate  a  tithe  of  my  experiences.  One  editor  just  glanced 
at  the  title,  after  disdainfully  untying  the  ribbon  and  shaking 
out  the  leaves,  as  if  infected  : 

"  Won't  take,"  he  decided  gruffly ;  "  got  scores  of  such  un- 
profitable wares  on  hand.  •  Not  worth  powder  enough  to  blow 
them  up."  Glancing  at  where  I  stood,  vainly  trying  to  ap- 
pear unconcerned,  he  added  more  softly,  "  Short,  spicy  talcs 
might  do.  A  long  story  couldn't  undertake."  He  took 
particular  pains  to  retie  the  package,  and  handed  it  to  me 
with  an  ironical  smile.  Another  was  just  the.reverse  in  man- 
ner, with  similar  judgment.  Very  blandly  he  discoursed 


KUBINA.  '  t  401 

very  elaborate  his  bows.  I  hardly  knew  at  the  time  what  he 
was  saying;  but,  at  the  conclusion  of  a  somewhat  lengthy  sen- 
tence, I  took  myself  and  bundle  off  the  door-sill — -literally 
bowed  from  the  august  premises. 

"  Well,"  I  said,  hopefully  to  my  sinking  heart,  "  this  is  not 
just  what  you  expected  ;  however,  be  brave  and  try  again." 
I  did  try  again  and  again  without  avail,  and  with  each  trial 
assurance  grew  apace  :  timidity,  daunted,  cowered  for  awhile  in 
the  nearest  hiding-place.  I  rather  liked  the  experience  I  was 
undergoing.  Most  refused  briefly,  without  deigning  a  glance 
at  my  offering.  Only  one — a  tall  gentleman,  with  silvery 
locks  and  benevolent  smile,  frankly  told  me  the  cause  of  my 
defeat. 

"  True  story  ;  looks  tolerable,"  he  remarked,  after  hurriedly 
glancing  over  a  few  pages ;  "  but  you  are  not  known.  Begin- 
ners stand  but  a  poor  chance.  We  must  follow  the  lead, 
madame,"  he  pursued,  smoothly*  "  There  is  nothing  like 
appending  to  published  articles  a  name  that  has  achieved 
prestige ;  it  sells  your  paper  at  once.  The  public  is  not 
always  a  discriminating  judge,  it  is  true.  It  often  greedily 
swallows  a  washy  draught  from  one  of  its  favorites.  Once 
gain  a  little  renown,  and  you  may  offer  it  what  you  please.  The 
'Literary  Reflector'  will  take  your  articles  then,  madame," 
he  finished,  smilingly. 

"  But  the  imperfect  fruit  must  have  opportunity,  ere  it  can 
develop  to  maturity,"  I  thought,  half  bitterly.  Aloud,  I 
merely  said,  "  Then  you  refuse  to  read  it  ?" 

"  /  am  willing,"  he  said,  quite  patiently.  "  But  we  are  not 
our  own  masters  ;  we  cater  to  our  patrons'  tastes,  and  often 
— sorely  against  our  private  judgment — serve  up  to  them 
what  to  ourselves  would  be  unpalatable  fare.  You  may 
leave  it,  however;  I  will  give  it  a  trial. ' 


402  RUBINA. 

Arrived  at  home — home,  indeed  !— madame  greeted  me  : 

"  Well,"  she  cried,  "  her  hands  are  empty  ;  our  authoress 
h'as  disposed  of  the  wonderful  tale.  Pray  what  magazine  is  to 
be  honored  by  its  appearance  ?"  she  asked,  with  a  sweet, 
though  somewhat  ironical,  smile.  I  replied  evasively,  and 
again  inquired  if  my  pupils  had  arrived.  "  No,  indeed,"  she 
declared ;  "  I  cannot  imagine  the  reason  of  their  delay,  t 
wrote  on  Monday,  stipulating  positively  for  their  instant 
arrival." 

I  looked  at  her  steadily.  She  gazed  back  at  me  calm  and 
smiling.  "  I  cannot  fathom  you,"  I  thought.  "  You  do  not 
seem  anxious  :  you  by  no  means  show  a  maternal  interest : 
no  solicitude  appears  for  their  unaccountable  non-arrival."  I 
reflected  on  the  singularity  of  her  urging  me  to  come  imme- 
diately, and  of  her  omitting  to  tell  me  of  their  absence.  My 
suspicions,  once  on  the  alert,  were  swift  to  discover  other  in- 
congruities. I  remembered  glances  interchanged  with  her 
guests.  Guests  !  Were  they  her  guests  ?  Theresa  let  fall, 
the  night  previous,  that  she  had  spent  a  year  with  her — a 
goodly  time  for  a  visit,  and  she  never  spoke  of  leaving.  I 
could,  in  reality,  detect  nothing  wrong  in  this ;  yet  my  mind 
refused  to  be  quieted.  A  remark  from  Mrs.  Selwyn,  later  in 
the  evening,  balanced  the  scale  ;  I  decided  to  leave  imme- 
diately. Bewildered  and  frightened,  I  felt  certainly  in  a  net, 
surrounded  by  only  one  means  of  escape — instant  flight. 
But  whither?  That  was  the  item  to  face.  Forward,  my 
spirit  resolutely  urged.  Forward !  But  the  way  was  still 
dark  to  my  vision. 

No.  I  must  wait  yet  another  night,  I  concluded  ;  and  thus 
resolved,  my  course  shaped  itself  clearly  before  me.  I  went 
out  in  the  morning,  after  locking  my  trunk ;  stopped  and 
scrutinized  playfully  by  Madame,  who — apparently  satisfied 


EUBINA.  403 

that  all  was  right — made  no  effort  to  detain  me.  I  went 
first  to  the  editor  to  inquire  for -my  truant  MSS.  I  saw  its 
fate  in  his  face  as  I  came  into  his  presence. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  he  began,  "  but  I'm  afraid  it  is  a  little  too 
flowery  to  take."  He  read  a  passage  from  the  pages  before 
him — poor  heart,  how  it  fluttered,  as  the  ironical  tone  shivered 
many  a  bright  delusion  !  "  Oh,  days  of  Arabian  enchantment ! 
Summer  davs  of  fair  fruition,  cloying  with  sweetness  ;  satiat-' 
ing  our  poor  human  heart  with  the  honey  of  Life's  fairest 
side.  A  living  reality  while  ye  lasted,  ye  are  become  the 
saddest  of  memories — for  never  can  those  sunny  paths  again 
be  trod.  Gone  is  the  dew  from  each  tiny  spray ;  the  fresh- 
ness from  the  flowers.  Dry  stalks  rattle  drearily ;  and  are 
scattered  by  the  wind — no  longer  a  summer  breeze — over  the 
mossy  turf,  now  shrivelled  and  brown.  The  birds  are 
banished :  Hope  no  longer  makes  nests  amid  the  branches, 
It  is  not  well  to  linger  too  long  amid  ruins.  It  is  not  well 
to  waste  precious  moments  of  the  swift-gliding  Present  in 
unavailing  mourning  for  the  Past."  He  paused,  and  pointed 
to  another  page  :  "  Seal  all  remorseful  questionings 'with  the 
balm  of  wasted  youth ;  stamp  them  legibly,  as  foolish 
dreams  of  unreflecting  childhood.  O'er  their  gray  ashes 
chant  no  dirge  ;  but  rise  rather  to  action.  In  the  mould  of 
the  Has  Been  sleeps  the  purer  strength  of  the  To  Be.  Give 
it  colossal  life,  and  power,  and  beauty.  Oh,  let  the  whisper- 
ings of  the  'still,  small  voice'  drift  downward  into  your  soul, 
startling  its  dreary,  selfish  sloth,  like  a  clarion  call — to  labor 
for  humanity.  Then,  in  after  years — though  the  past  land- 
marks can  never  be  wholly  obliterated,  yet  they  shall  be  left 
so  far  behind  in  our  memories,  that  we  may  view  them  as 
wayside  graves  ;  yet  lurking  far,  far  distant  from  our  direct 
road  of  travel." 


404  RUBINA. 

"I  will  take  it,  if  you  please,"  I  interrupted.  He  silently 
placed  it  in  my  hand,  and  I  went  out.  When  in  the  street, 
I  tore  it  into  a  thousand  fragments.  I  found  a  melancholy 
relief  in  sowing  it  broadcast,  as  I  slowly  wandered  along ;  to 
me  it  was  the  burial — necessary,  perhaps,  but  sad — of  my 
grand  dreams. 

What  was  I  to  do  ?  Where  was  I  to  go  ?  I  scarcely 
thought  at  first,  as  I  battled  bravely  with  this  disappoint- 
ment, and  destroyed  the  labor  of  months.  As  my  bitter 
feelings  faded,  the  necessity  of  seeking  an  immediate  shelter 
somewhere,  recurred  to  me.  I  knew  no  one.  I  had  no 
courage  to  seek  for  employment.  The  morning  was  spent, 
the  noontide  was  long  since  passed,  but  I  still  strolled  on, 
much  too  thoughtful  to  be  weary.  These  past  three  days 
seemed  like  as  many  weeks ;  so  full  had  they  been  crowded 
of  reflections  and  cares  both  placid  and  bitter,  of  eager  hopes 
and  necessary  changes.  Then  I  surmised  suddenly  that  I 
must  be  hungry — with  renewed  strength  might  enter  clearer 
counsel.  I  bought  some  cakes,  eating  them  as  I  strolled 
along,  devising  plans  for  the  coming  night.  I  believe  all 
sorts  of  absurd  spirits  revelled  in  my  brain  for  a  few  hours ; 
but  from  each's  method  of  compromising  with  propriety,  I 
turned  away  with  disgust.  To  add  to  my  bodily  discomfort — 
my  mental  could  hardly  have  been  worse — there  began  to  de- 
scend, towards  evening,  a  chill  December  rain.  As  I  could  not 
stand  forever  under  awnings,  or  loiter  in  doorways  of  shops, 
without  exciting  serious  suspicions,  I  left  these  friendly  covers, 
and  was  soon  drenched  thoroughly.  Still  on,  and  on,  and 
on.  The  streets  were  alive  with  people  going  home  from 
their  work.  The  lamps  glowed  one  by  one  at  the  street 
corners.  I  began  to  quake  inwardly  at  the  disagreeable  pros- 
pect before  me  of  a  gratuitous  night  lodging  in  the  station- 


KUBINA.  405 

house,  and  to  pluck  up  courage  enough  to  ask  the  inmates 
of  dwellings,  "  If  they  wished  to  hire  a  servant?"  How 
many  I  inquired  at  I  know  not;  I  kept  no  account;  but  at 
each  I  got  the  same  cool  negative.  I  believe  they  did  not 
think  me  a  servant,  but  some  hardened  character;  probably 
a  night-walker,  or  an  associate  and  accomplice  of  burglars. 

"  It  is  quite  too  late  in  the  day  to  get  a  situation,"  ob- 
served one  housemaid,  ironically,  as  I  turned  from  the  door. 
So  it  was.  I  felt  its  truth,  and  made  up  my  mind  to  wan- 
der about  until  some  policeman  marched  me  off  to"  my  night 
quarters.  Desperate  circumstances  breed  desperate  measures 
and  natures.  I  do  not  remember  feeling  shame  as  I  walked 
along — unmolested  as  yet — only  a  feeling  as  if  it  was  per- 
fectly natural  that  I  should  be  there,  homeless,  wet  to  the 
skin,  friendless,  very  nearly  akin  to  a  poor  miserable  outcast. 

Does  every  one,  while  experiencing  their  most  wretched 
moments,  recall,  with  vivid  distinctness,  their  happiest  hours  ? 
I  do.  I  did  then.  Miserable  as  I  felt — disappointed — de- 
ceived— ready  as  I  was  for  the  most  desperate  steps,  there 
came  before  me  the  unbroken  vista  of  the  only  happy  years 
of  my  life.  I  saw  Demis,  arch,  blithe  and  happy,  as  I  knew 
her  then.  Mark  thoughtlessly,  boyishly  gleeful.  Mr.  Hume 
sedately  reading,  or  fascinating  us  by  his  free,  graceful  talk 
and  magnetic  manner.  I  experienced  anew  every  pleasur- 
able fancy.  I  renewed  every  merry  chat — the  incidents 
of  every  walk.  Every  kindness,  every  affectionate  look,  every 
caress,  returned  then  to  comfort  me.  I  believe  it  is  well 
that  it  should  be  so  ;  it  shuts  out  for  a  brief  space  the  pres- 
ent agony.  The  poignancy  of  misery  lessens,  and  with  its 
ebb  flows  in  again  renewed  hopefulness.  I  can  never  under- 
stand how  one  can  commit  suicide  after  such  inner  commun- 
ing ;  yet  I  have  heard  of  mortals  sitting  then  calmly  down 


406  RUBINA. 

to  ponder  its  utility — scanning  the  past  bliss,  the  present 
despair,  to  weigh  accurately  the  causes  in  favor  of  self-de- 
struction, and  then  grasping  madly  at  the  thought  of  oblivion 
to  earthly  torments.  I  wonder  at  and  pity  them.  It  is  so 
cowardly  to  sneak  from  the  mastery  of  trouble !  Yet  who 
would  be  rash  enough  to  sit  at  a  tribunal  of  human  judges 
to  sentence  such  a  soul  ?  It  is  a  terrible  spectacle  for  the 
angels  to  witness — a  terrible  tale  for  their  pens  to  record — 
how  a  human  life,  endowed  abundantly  with  longings  for 
happiness,  can  be  goaded  on  by  countless  human  influences 
to  the  verge  of  despair,  and  in  one  luckless  moment  plunged 
over  it,  unbidden,  into  the  presence  of  his  Maker  and  his 
Lord !  It  seems  to  me  that  the  possessor  of  a  happy  past 
should  live  for  the  sake  of  that  remembrance.  Thus  indi- 
vidualized, it  is  a  solace,  sufficient  to  weigh  to  the  dust  the 
mighty,  absorbing,  present  evil. 

Yet  though  I  was  in  a  measure  comforted,  it  seemed  to 
me  I  could  feel  a  dim  foreshadowing  of  the  rash  thoughts  of 
those  unfortunates  who — the  one  false  step  taken — plunge 
thenceforth,  with  headlong  velocity,  into  crime.  Long-con- 
tinued misery  feeds  recklessness.  Then  we  are  none  of  us 
planted  so  high  upon  the  pinnacle  of  purity  as  to  be  beyond 
the  reach  of  temptation.  The  happy  are  no  judge  of  this 
fact ;  but  let  a  great  love  turned  to  blasting  sorrow,  a  great 
despair  sweep  over  them,  and  see  how  soon  the  foundations 
begin  to  quake,  the  powers  of  perception  grow  obscured,  and 
the  power  of  resistance  lessened.  I  felt  that  if  I  should  be 
obliged  to  pass  a  week  like  this  one  day,  I  might  follow  their 
wayward  courses;  might  break  through  the  conventional 
laws  fencing  in  the  good  from  contact  with  evil.  Happily, 
this  fate  was  not  in  reserve  for  me.  Whatever  awaited  me 
iu  the  future,  this  night,  at  least,  I  was  not  to  scour  the  dis- 


RUBLNA.  407 

inal  streets,  or  find  a  sleepless  rest  in  the  quarters  for  the 
vagrant  and  abandoned.  A  mere  chance  turned  the  scale, 
and  saved  me.  As  I  turned  a  corner  and  gazed  absently 
down  a  narrow  street — uncertain  whether  to  traverse  it,  or 
to  keep  on  my  direct  course — I  observed  a  woman,  leading  a 
little  girl  by  the  hand,  emerge  from  a  bookstore,  and  quietly 
gather  up  her  gray  dress  ere  moving  on.  She  opened  an 
umbrella,  too,  but  after  going  a  few  paces,  she  seemed  to  re- 
gard the  effort  of  carrying  it  extended  more  than  it  was 
worth ;  for,  putting  out  her  hand  and  feeling  only  a  dim 
sprinkle  of  rain  or  mist,  she  shut  it  down  again  and  used  it 
for  a  staff.  Something  whispered  me  to  follow  them.  I  did 
so — keeping  just  far  enough  behind  to  hear  their  conversa- 
ion,  and  to  watch  their  movements. 

"  Be  thou  quiet,  Helen  Mar,"  observed  the  dame, anxiously; 
for  the  child  commenced  to  caper  restlessly,  and  frequently 
attempted  to  break  away  from  the  maternal  hand.  "  Thee  is 
getting  very  unstable  lately,  I  think,"  she  continued,  placidly. 
"  I  really  think  thy  father  and  I  had  better  move  into  the 
country  once  more." 

"  Now,  what  have  I  done  ?"  asked  the  child,  peevishly. 

"  Why,  thou  prancest  along  like  a  race-horse,  Helen  Mar ; 
and  thee  always  must  stop  to  see  the  sights  in  all  the  shop- 
windows  ;  and  thee  almost  struck  into  a  hipaty-hop  just  now, 
Helen  Mar,"  she  answered,  with  mild  severity. 

"  I  wish  that  I  could  learn  to  dance,  like  Lois  Hill,"  re- 
marked Miss  Helen,  mischievously.  "  She  looks  like  a  spirit 
when  she's  dancing." 

"  Hush  thee,  child !"  admonished  her  mother.  "  What 
does  thee  know  of  spirits?" 

"  Well,  at  any  rate,  one  can't  go  on  a  jog  trot  all  the  time, 
can  one?"  inquired  the  child,  at  once  bringing  her  easy 


408  RUBINA. 

canter  into  strict  conformity  with  the  good  dame's  ideas  of 
propriety  exemplified  in  her  own  steady  gait. 

"  So  you're  a  Quakeress,"  I  thought,  as  I  followed  the 
plump,  short  figure— hushing  my  own  footfalls  to  catch  the 
sound  of  her  motherly  exhortations.  She  had  a  pleasant 
voice — soft,  flexible,  and  full  of  kindly  intonations. 

"  Thee  should  begin  to  consider  looks.  Thee  is  getting 
old  enough,"  she  remarked.  "  I  hope  thee  is  not  going  to 
have  an  irritable  temper,  Helen  Mar.  I  noticed  thee  didn't 
seem  over  pleased  with  thy  present." 

"  I  wanted  '  The  Twins  in  the  Garden,  and  other  Tales,'  " 
pouted  Miss.  "  But  I  never  can  have  what  I  want.  I  heard 
Cousin  Dolly  tell  theS  to  get  me  a  book  suitable  for  my  age, 
and  that  one  isn't,  I'm  sure.  I'll  ask  Zaccheus  now." 

"  Well,  ask  thy  father,  do.  He  will  tell  thee  that  there 
is  no  better  book  in  the  world  than  '  Silas  Bridges'  Life.' 
Thee  is  too  young  yet  to  know  what  is  best  for  thee.  I 
used  my  judgment  in  selecting  one  which  will  never  wear 
out — " 

"  I  wish  it  would,  then  !"  cut  in  Helen  Mar,  pertly. 

"  When  thou  art  an  aged  woman,"  proceeded  her  mother, 
smoothly,  "  then  thou  wilt  love  to  peruse  it,  and  for  thy 
youth  and  middle  age  it  will  be  a  guide  unto  thy  feet. 
One  of  these  days  thou  wilt  think  differently  on  these  things. 
Thee  has  a  great  deal  to  learn,  my  child." 

"  Mother,  there's  a  woman  following  us — an  awful-looking 
creature,  too  !"  hastily  interrupted  the  girl,  sending  a  glance 
over  her  shoulder.  "  Ask  her  what  she  wants." 

"  Hush  thee,  daughter !  Can  she  not  walk  the  same  pave- 
ment with  us  I  She  is  doubtless  some  poor  creature  going 
home  from  her  work,"  interposed  the  dame,  in  a  lower  tune. 
"  Has  she  an  umbrella,  child  i"  I  heard  her  ask  further.  Just 


RUBESTA.  409 

then    a  policeman  stepped  to  my  side,  and  touched  my 
shoulder.     I  looked  around  frightened. 

"  You  have  followed  that  lady  long  enough,"  was  his  rough 
accost.  "  Come,  what  do  you  want  of  her  ?" 

"  I  wished  to  speak  to  her  ;  I  am  only  waiting  for  a  chance. 
I  want  to  ask  her  for  a  night's  lodging,"  I  replied,  fearfully. 

He  laughed  in  my  face  coarsely,  and  chucked  my  chin. 
I  drew  back,  gazing  wistfully  after  the  twain,  receding  slowly 
down  the  street. 

"  Oh !"  said  he,  skeptically,  "  If  that's  the  case,  come 
along  with  me,  and  I'll  accommodate  you.  You're  a  pretty- 
looking  creature  to  speak  to  a  lady  /" 

"  1  must  speak  to  her  first,"  I  persisted,  in  a  leuder  tone. 
"  Then,  if  she  won't  give  it  to  me,  I  will  go  with  you." 

The  lady,  it  appears,  overheard  this  colloquy,  or  my 
earnest  closing  remark,  for  she  stopped,  looked  around,  then 
turned  and  trotted  briskly  up  to  us. 

"  What  does  thee  wish  of  me,  poor  woman?"  she  kindly 
asked. 

"  Let  me  go  with  you,  and  I  will  tell  you,"  I  implored, 
shaking  off  the  policeman's  heavy  hand.  "  I  am  not  that 
which"  he  takes  me  for,"  I  continued,  earnestly.  "  Don't  be 
afraid,  madam ;  you  need  not  feel  obliged  to  keep  me,  after 
hearing  my  story,  if  you  do  not  wish  to,"  I  urged;  at 
which  bright  idea  the  trusty  guardian  of  the  pave  laughed. 

"  You'd  better  not  keep  her,  madam.  You'll  be  woefully 
sucked  in,"  he  declared,  confidently.  "  I  reckon  I'd  better 
save  ye  the  trouble  of  hearing  her  story.  It's  allers  the  old 
one.  There's  hundreds  of  'em  now  roaming  round  this  very 
spot." 

"  I  don't  see  any,"  declared  the  lady,  looking  innocently 
about  her. 
18 


410  RUBINA. 

"  Poh  !"  was  his  scornful  rejoinder. 

She  looked  searchingly  in  his  face,  as  she  asked :  "  What  he 
intended  to  do  with  me,  provided  she  refused  to  take  me 
herself?" 

"  Oh,  I'll  lock  her  up  safe  enough  for  one  night.  It'll  be 
a  kindness  to  her,  and  to  all  the  rest  of  'em,  if  one  could  do 
it,"  he  callously  answered. 

"  I'm  not  one  of  those,"  I  said,  flushing  indignantly. 
"  For  once  you  are  mistaken." 

"  May  be  so,"  he  returned,  ironically.  "  I've  no  time  to 
dispute  it;  but  good  people  don't  roam  the  streets  in  this 
fashion.  I've  watched  you  for  three  hours  and  over.  This 
one  come  from  the  country,"  he  added,  to  the  lady. 

"  At  any  rate,  thee  shall  go  home  with  me,"  said  she, 
quickly.  "  My  door  is  not  too  good  to  open  to  anybody. 
Thee  need  waste  no  more  words  about  so  slight  a  matter ;" 
and  she  signalled  me  to  follow  her. 

"  As  you  like,  of  course,  ma'am,"  observed  the  watchman, 
moving  away 'indifferently.  As  we  walked  along,  I  told  my 
story.  When  it  was  ended,  she  brightened  up  considerably, 
and  said,  heartily-: 

"  I'm  glad  I  met  thee.    Thou  didst  not  tell  me  thy  name." 

"  Rubina  Brooks." 

"Well,  Rubina,  thee  need  worry  no  more — to-night,  at 
least.  Thou  canst  stay  with  me  and  mine  ;  and  this,  not  be- 
cause thou  hast  proven  thyself  better  than  I  expected — " 

"  I  haven't  proved  myself  at  all,"  I  ventured  to  observe. 

"  Well,  I  believe  thee,  Rubina,  as  much  as  if  thou  hadst . 
I  know  when  anybody  is  lying.  Thou  art  not  a  liar." 

"  I  hope  not,"  I  said,  fervently. 

"  But  if  thou  art  a  poor  unfortunate,  thee  can  stay  undei 
my  roof,  likewise,  and  we  will  see  what  can  be  done  for  thee 


BUBINA.  411 

after  to-morrow.  Zaccheus  will  relish  that,''1  observed  the 
dame,  with  sweet  Christian  charity.  "  Zaccheus  is  my  hus- 
band," she  continued  ;  "  and  tnis  is  our  daughter;  and  this 
is  our  home.1'  She  looked  up  at  the  row  of  cheerfully  light- 
ed windows.  "  Come  right  in,"  she  added,  with  hospitable 
eagerness,  while  ascending  the  broad  stone  steps,  and  looking 
over  her  shoulder,  to  see  if  I  was  obeying  literally  the  injunc- 
tion. There  was  little  fear  of  my  running  from  the  cheery 
prospect  of  such  safe  harborage,  after  a  day  of  such  despair- 
ing, drifting  on  cheerless  uncertainty ;  with  such  miserable 
thoughts,  such  skeleton  fears  for  company.  She  placed  her 
umbrella  in  one  corner  compactly,  then  treated  the  mahogany 
bell-knob  to  a  placid  pull.  After  a  moment  of  waiting,  a 
slippered  tread  sounded  in  the  entry ;  then  some  fumbling 
of  the  key  in  the  lock  ensued,  and  the  uasliding  of  a  bolt, 
with  a  sharp,  sudden  click ;  then  the  door  swung  slowly 
open,  just  enough  to  show  us  a  man's  face  and  form,  peering 
out  at  us.  It  was  a  muscular  form,  though  greatly  bowed, 
either  with  grief  or  physical  infirmity,  for  his  years  could 
not  have  exceeded  fifty.  The  broad  shoulders  bent  nearly 
double.  They  supported  a  pale,  wrinkled  face,  but  kindly 
looking ;  with  a  pair  of  dark  gray  eyes,  humorous  and 
pathetic  by  turns,  one  moment  flashing  with  keen  apprecia- 
tion of  some  witty  repartee,  the  next  looming  down  their 
dark  centres  into  your  very  soul,  with  a  kind  of  sorrowful 
pity  at  the  chance  discovery  of  any  troubled  thought  lurking 
there.  The  thin,  red  lips  one  might  disown.  The  straight, 
stern,  inflexible  nose  ;  the  high,  narrow  forehead ;  the  un- 
graceful form.  But  those  eyes  one  could  never  watch  a  day 
without  growing  to  love  their  shifting,  intelligent  expression, 
without  cleaving  to  the  sympathetic  soul  flashing  fitfully 
through  them.  Of  course  I  did  not  discern  all  this,  did  not 


412  RUBINA. 

draw  these  conclusions,  while  waiting  out  on  those  cold  rain- 
splashed  door-steps  ;  they  were  after-thoughts  in  the  acquaint- 
ance which  followed  this  night's  introduction.  There,  I 
only  thought  of  getting  to  the  light  and  heat  within,  to  warm 
my  aching,  shivering  bones  at  the  glowing  wood  fire  I  heard 
crackling  and  roaring  away  in  the  parlor. 

He  stepped  back  hastily  on  seeing  who  it  was  that  rang, 
and  laughed. 

"  Oh !  it's  thee,  is  it,  Judith  ?  Thee's  done  thy  shopping 
in  right  speedy  fashion,"  was  his  quaint  greeting,  in  a  sweet 
silvery  voice,  as  the  lady  entered.  Helen  Mar  and  myself 
filed  in  after  her. 

"  Why,  did  thee  think  'twas  a  Sabbath-day's  journey  to 
Klipstones  and  back,  pray  tell  me  ?"  was  the  good-humored 
retort,  as  she  delivered  into  his  hand  a  small-sized  brown 
paper  parcel,  with  the  further  inquiry  :  "  Wilt  thou  take 
that,  and  tell  me  what  thee  thinks  of  it  ?  Helen  Mar  wishes 
thy  opinion  on  my  purchase."  She  turned  and  looked  at 
the  girl,  as  if  now  was  the  time  for  her  to  present  her  former 
objections,  that  they  might  be  done  away  with  by  the  im- 
partial judge  before  her. 

"  Pm  contented  enough  with  it,"  rather  sullenly  observed 
Miss  Helen,  eying  the  parcel  askance,  as  her  prudent  father 
patiently  picked  out  the  knot  in  the  twine,  rolled  it  up  com- 
pactiy,  tucked  it  in  his  side-pocket,  shook  out  the  creased 
corners  of  the  enveloping  paper,  then  took  a  seat  on  the  sofa, 
smoothed  the  paper  over  his  knees,  folded  and  handed  it  to 
his  wife,  who  stood  before  him  watching  these  proceedings 
with  apparent  interest,  and  glancing,  from  time  to  time,  at 
her  daughter.  She  looked  as  if  it  was  the  bitter  thing  that 
her  past  sorrow  should  be  thus  revived  when  it  had  nearly 
worn  itself  away. 


RUBINA.  413 

"  The  Life  and  Religions  Experience  of  the  Rev.  Silas 
Bridges,"  read  her  father,  slowly,  from  the  title-page.  "  Tru- 
ly a  good  selection,  Judith,"  he  pronounced,  approvingly, 
turning  a  long  look  at  the  marbled  covers  and  cleanly  cut 
leaves.  "  Thee  had  an  eye  to  thv  own  profit,  Judith,  I  con- 
clude. Don't  thee  like  it,  Helen  Mar  ?  Was  that  thy  moth- 
er's meaning  ?"  he  presently  asked.  She  was  silent,  and  be- 
gan to  chew  her  bonnet-strings  into  a  round  ball — occasion- 
ally pulling  them  from  her  mouth  to  note  the  progress  she 
was  making  in  this  exemplary  matter. 

"  Why,    what  is  the  matter  with  it  ?"  asked  her  father, 
quaintly. 
.    "  Nothing,"  was  Miss's  perverse  answer. 

"  Then  thee'll  take  it,  read  it,  and  profit  by  it,  and  keep 
it  on  thy  shelf  for  reference,"  remarked  her  smiling  sire, 
making  her  a  formal  presentation.  She  flared  directly.  "  I 
don't  want  it;  I  won't  read  it;  I  shan't  have  it  on  my  shelf. 
I  hate  old  Silas  Bridges  !"  screamed  Miss,  passionately,  aban- 
doning the  mastication  of  brown  lutestring,  and  sinking  a 
stormy  heap  on  the  entry  floor. 

"  Look  there,  will  thee,  Zaccheus  !"  exclaimed  her  mother, 
despairingly.  "  Oh,  hush  thee,  child  !"  she  repeated,  mildly, 
again  and  again.  "  Thee'll  make  thyself  down  sick  " — sur- 
veying in  meek  astonishment  the  fast-dropping  flood.  Not 
so  her  father.  He  dropped  the  unconscious  cause  of  them, 
stooped,  lifted  her  tenderly,  in  spite  of  her  kicks  and  screams, 
and  planted  her  on  his  knee.  He  removed  the  little  wet 
hands;  he  drew  down  the  little  drenched,  crumpled  apron 
frfcm  the  tear-stained  face,  and  surveyed  it  curiously.  Then 
he  pretended  to  seek  all  over  the  apron  for  a  dry  spot ;  hav- 
ing found  a  tiny  corner,  he  wiped'  with  it  the  streaming  eyes, 
and  sighed,  ludicrously.  This  made  Helen  laugh  hysteric- 


414  RUBINA. 

ally,  in  which  merriment  her  father  good-naturedly  joined — 
prolonging  the  chuckle  until  Helen  caught  it  up,  and  again 
repeated  it.  u  Never  mind,  Judith,"  he  said,  goocl-humor- 
edly,  as  his  wife  picked  up  the  little  quilted  bonnet,  and  sur- 
veyed its  crushed  proportions  in  mute  dismay.  "  There." 
He  straightened  her  bent  form  with  his  kindly  palms — she 
evincing  a  marked  desire  to  rest  her  comforted  head  on  her 
father's  bosom.  He  gathered  both  tiny  dimpled  hands  in 
his  own :  his  magnetism  charmed  away  sorrow.  "  That's 
father's  little  lady ;  now  tell  father  all  about  it." 

The  "  little  lady  "  seemed  to  have  now  no  grief  to  unbur- 
den. She  looked  quite  pacified,  thoroughly  delighted,  and 
supremely  content.  She  turned  on  him  a  beaming -smile^ 
whispering  something  confidentially.  He  replied  with  a  like 
confidence,  and  at  its  close  she  bounded  from  her  perch, 
picked  up  the  despised  volume,  and  ran  off  with  it. 

"  That's  just  like  Zaccheus,"  placidly  remarked  the  dame, 
turning  towards  me.  •  "Oh!  I  forgot,"  she  added,  in  a  re- 
pentant tone;  "  and  that's  just  like  me.  Zaccheus,  this  is 
Rubina  Brooks.  I  met  her  out  here,  and  invited  her  to  spend 
the  night  with  us.  Only  think,  Zaccheus,  she  was  out  in  all 
this  rain,  and  she  must  come  immediately  and  get  some  dry 
garments  on."  She  seized  my  cold  hand,  and  led  me  off  to 
her  own  room  ;  brought  out  one  of  her  own  quaint  dresses, 
ripped  out  in  deft  fashion  a  broad  tuck  to  enable  me  to  wear 
it  more  comfortably,  and  almost  ere  I  knew  it,  I  had  under- 
gone a  nice  warm  bath,  and  stood  forth  a  somewhat  spectral- 
looking  Quakeress.  Then  my  hostess  appeared,  to  lead  me 
to  the  parlor,  where — before  me — she  told  her  husband  ex- 
actly what  I  had  said  to  her  in  the  street.  He  shook  my 
hand,  cordially  ;  drew  a  stuffed  rocking-chair  before  the  fire 
— the  same  fire  that  sounded  to  me  from  the  door  with  such 


KUBINA.  415 

a  sense  of  welcome  in  its  leaping  flames — inviting  me  to  be 
seated.  Then  he  drew  one  opposite,  for  himself,  and  began 
to  talk  in  a  gentle  voice  of  various  things — current  topics  of 
the  day — never  once  alluding  to  my  vagrant  condition,  but 
treating  me  precisely  on  the  footing  of  an  expected,  welcome 
guest. 

Mean \\hile  his  wife  trotted  nimbly  from  this  room  to  an 
inner  one,  preparing  tea.  I  found  pleasure  in  watching  her. 
"  You  keep  no  domestic,"  thought  I,  as  I  saw  her  lift  the  iron 
kettle  on  the  hob,  replenish  the  fire,  and  perform  various  other 
menial  offices,  occasionally  assisted  by  her  husband,  who,  iu 
the  midst  of  his  kindly  talk,  yet  was  ever  on  the  watch  to 
serve  her.  She  drew  out  a  little  round  table,  spread  a  snowy 
cloth  over  it,  placed  thereon  some  delicate  china,  a  roll  of  ba- 
ker's bread,  a  plate  of  cakes,  a  glass  dish  of  preserved  fruit, 
and  called  us  to  partake  of  it.  The  fare,  though  simple,  was 
excellent.  The  tea  strengthened  and  refreshed  me.  As  the 
evening  waned,  I  felt  more  and  more  at  home.  It  seemed 
the  most  natural  thing  in  life  to  be  there  ;  my  weary  spirit 
had  at  last  found  a  congenial  rest.  Zaccheus  and  Judith  were 
old  friends.  Even  Helen  Mar,  pretty,  arch,  and  wilful,  rest- 
ed very  near  to  the  groping  tendrils  of  my  affections,  as  she 
came  to  my  side  and  imprinted  her  crimson  lips  on  mine  for 
a  good-night  kiss,  ere  being  whisked  away  to  her  repose  by 
the  mild,  decided  dame.  I  shortly  after  followed  her  to  a 
similar  cot  in  a  tiny  whitewashed  cell,  with  one  little  win- 
dow looking  out  upon  I  knew  not  what  prospect — a  sanded 
floor,  a  small,  square  stand  with  drawers,  a  stool  covered 
with  carpeting,  a  chest  covered  with  large  flowered  chintz, 
and  a  low  rocking-chair  with  an  ample  netted  tidy.  "  I  hope 
thee  will  sleep  'well.  Thee  must  remember  thy  dreams  :  they 
will  come  to  pass,  thee  knows.  Good-night,  Rubina,"  was 


416  RUBINA. 

my  kind  hostess's  farewell,  as  she  looked  in  upon  me,  just  as 
my  eyelids  were  wearily  closing  in  slumber. 

I  dreamed  that  night  of  innumerable  things,  all  pleasant. 
Gay  shapes  and  bright  colors  danced  airy  mazourkas  across 
the  border-land  of  unconscious  thought.  I  smiled  at  them 
benignly,  applauding  their  wildest  fantasies,  and  floated  oft' 
on  a  radiant  sea  of  delight — fraught  with  a  blissful  sense  that, 
in  some  way,  I  had  reached  home  at  last ;  that  my  troubled 
life  had  all  been  a  dream  ;  that  I  was  yet  in  my  father's  house ; 
the  sweet  gates  of  unthinking  infancy  not  yet  closed  upon 
me.  Only  a  child's  cares  of  a  day  to  shake  off — the  unfailing 
burden  of  the  pilgrim  waiting  for  me  very,  very  far  off,  on  the 
shores  of  my  woman's  life. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE  Sabbath  came  round  to  this  Quaker  household  full  of 
peace.  No  aching  sense  of  the  duty,  the  absolute,  unresting 
need  of  going  to  church.  Only  a  cairn,  unprofessional  wor- 
ship of  the  serenely  poised  minds.  Zaccheus  and  Judith, 
it  is  true,  went  off  to  their  "  meeting,"  in  the  afternoon.  Hel- 
en Mar  remained  at  home  with  me,  for  the  most  part  becom- 
ingly quiet ;  only  once  or  twice  threatening  to  run  riot  over 
the  sacred  stillness  of  the  day.  As  I  rocked  in  the  easy-chair, 
and  read  Helen's  despised  present,  I  could  not  help  contrast- 
ing this  day  with  the  one  of  a  week  previous  ;  the  retrospec- 
tion ending  with  a  summoning  of  thankful  verdicts  in  the 
present's  favor,  and  a  hope  that  this  might  bo  the  precursor 
of  many  similar  ones.  I  wondered  what  Mrs.  Selwyn  thought 


RUBINA.  417 

of  my  disappearance.  I  was  pondering  these  things,  when 
my  host  and  hostess  returned,  and  inquired  kindly  "How  I 
had  enjoyed  myself."  They  seemed  childishly  pleased  and" 
gratified  with  my  answer,  and  in  the  evening  they  fell  to  talk- 
ing of-  what  they  could  do  for  me. 

"  Mrs.  Bates  has  been  wanting  a  governess,  but  she  left 
last  week  for  Philadelphia,"  thoughtfully  remarked  Judith. 
She  insisted  on  my  calling  them  by  their  Christian  names. 
Helen  Mar  frequently  thus  addressed  them,  and  they  never 
seemed  to  think  it  disrespectful  or  improper. 

"  Yes,  and  she  won't  be  back  this  year,"  added  Zaccheus. 
"  Suppose  we  keep  her  ourselves,  Judith.  Helen  Mar  needs 
a  teacher,  sorely." 

"  Thee  don't-  seem  to  consider  the  expense,"  mildly  re- 
sponded his  wife. 

"  I  will  gladly  teach  her  for  a  home  until  I  can  do  better," 
I  here  observed. 

"  Thee  knows  that  our  will  is  good  enough,  Rubina ;  but 
we  are  not  at  all  gifted  with  worldly  favors,"  observed 
Judith,,  anxiously.  "Zaccheus  never  thinks.  I  verily  be- 
lieve that  he  does  not  know  we  are  poor,"  she  added,  with  a 
smile.  He  laughed. 

Thus  it  was  quietly  settled.  I  did  not  think  a  better  situa- 
tion likely  to  offer  itself  immediately.  I  had  come  down  a 
decided  step  now  in  my  mental  calculations,  and,  instead  of 
the  extravagant  promises  of  Hope,  I  began  to  pluck  the 
sober  premises  of  Reason.  The  green  glimpses  disappeared 
from  my  road,  and  showed  me  the  white  line  of  sun-baked 
dust  beyond. 

I  likisd  my  benefactors  better  and  better  with  the  close  of 
every  day ;  they  were  so   thoroughly  warm-hearted  and  ge- 
nial ;  so  fond  of  doing  good,  and  so  unostentatious  in  their 
18* 


418  RUBINA. 

mode  of  doing  it.  They  were  deeply  imbued  with  the  char- 
itable, self-sacrificing  spirit  of  true  religion,  and  never,  while 
I  was  an  inmate  of  their  home,  did  I  hear  either  speak  evil 
of  one  of  their  neighbors.  Chastity  glows — a  bright  star 
without  profession ;  so  also  does  true  religion.  They  made 
no  profession  of  piety.  "  We  are  fond  of  our  meeting,"  was 
their  frequent  remark  ;  but  they  neither  expected  nor  exacted 
my  attendance,  or  passed  strictures  on  the  faith  of  other 
worshippers.  I  went  with  them  a  few  times,  buJt  I  did  not 
like  their  "  meeting."  The  stiff,  silent  rows  of  men  and 
women,  sitting  opposite  each  other  like  statues;  the  long 
hour  of  dead  silence,  unbroken  by  a  prayer  or  psalm,  during 
which  they  listened  to  -the  whisperings  of  "The  Spirit," 
and — inandibly  to  other  ears  than  their  own — received  and 
gathered  to  their  hearts  His  preached  revelations;  the  re- 
buking stare,  if  one  moved  from  weariness,  were  to  me  inex- 
pressibly irksome.  When  one  of  the  brethren,  or  a  pale, 
sw£et-faced  sister,  was  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  con- 
strained to  expound  these  wondrous  revelations,  I  could  not 
but  feel  interested. 

But  these  cases  were  rare,  and  the  silent  meetings  many, 
so  I  gradually  came  to  spend  my  Sundays  at  home  with  my 
pupil.  She  was  quite  too  restless  to  be  allowed  often  to 
accompany  her  parents.  She  flounced  around  on  the  benches 
in  such  unorthodox  fashion  as  to  seriously  discompose  the 
placidity  of  the  Elders,  and  to  disturb  their  feelings  of  de- 
votion ;  paying  no  heed  to  the  gentle  shakes  of  the  fawn- 
colored  bonnets  around  her,  or  the  frowns  of  the  broad- 
brims. She  was  gentle  and  docile  enough  with  me,  'and  the 
Sundays  which  we  spent  together  were  the  pleasantest  of 
my  life — delicious  bits  of  dreaminess  inserting  themselves 
between  weeks  of  thought  and  study,  just  as  a  day  of  joy  oft- 


RUBINA.  419 

times  stands  out  a  bright  mosaic  on  the  black  enamel  of 
other  days  of  sorrowful  gloom. 

The  Hoveys  were  not  demonstrative  people.  Little  by 
little  you  grew  into  their  confidence.  Then  they  made  no 
fuss  about  their  friendship.  They  told  you  a  secret  as 
quietly  as  they  would  have  spoken  of  an  ordinary  domestic 
concern  ;  never  putting  your  fidelity  to  the  doubt  by  exact- 
ing a  promise  of  keeping  it.  If  they  honored  you  by  their 
friendship,  you  were  supposed  worthy  of  it ;  and  all  con- 
trary implication  would  by  them  have  been  deemed  an  in- 
sult. Theirs  had  been  a  love-match — an  elopement ;  although 
their  sober  years  laughed  down  in  incredulity  this  primitive 
fact.  Judith  told  me  this  one  day.  "  He  was  poor  then," 
she  said,  "and  my  parents  were  well  off,  and  they  were 
dreadfully  opposed  to  it.  His  folks  were  Hicksites,  and  no 
less  opposed  to  the  match ;  so  it  run  along  for  a  long,  long 
time,  and  finally  we  came  to  the  conclusion  that  we  would 
consult  our  own  minds,  and  one  night — it  was  dark  as  Egypt 
— I  up  and.  out  of  the  window.  Zaccheus  Hovey  was  wait- 
ing for  me  there,  thee  may  well  believe,  and  we  embraced 
and  ran  off  together.  Thee  would  have  done  the  same, 
Rubina,  if  the,.e  had  loved  him  as  well  as  I  did.  Well,  I  have 
never  had  reason  to  regret  it,  friend.  That  I  can  truly  say." 

"  What  did  your  parents  say  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh  !  they  never  overlooked  it  in  us.  They  turned  us  out 
of  the  meetings ;  but  as  we  were  away,  we  did  not  mind. 
Happiness  is  better  than  meetings,  Rubina.  Besides,  it  was  a 
common  thing ;  why,  they  turned  my  Aunt  Rachel  Hussy 
out  because  she  went  to  hear  the  Hicksites  preach.  Her 
sister  went  too,  but  they  did  not  deal  with  her,  on  account 
of  her  young  family.  Aunt  Rachel  had  no  children.  That 
was  a  great  while  ago.  They  are  all  gone  now.  I  did  long 


420  EUBINA. 

to  be  reconciled  to  them  first,  but  I  have  never  been  back 
there  since  we  left  that  night.  Zaccheus  has,  but  they  didn't 
know  him.  'Twas  after  the  rheumatism  left^him  as  he  is 
now ;  and  he  is  changed  in  other  things  besides  that ;  but 
his  heart  is  just  the  same  as  ever,  and  though  I  cannot  with 
truth  say,  friend,  that  we  are  any  richer  in  worldly  goods 
than  we  were  then,  yet  we  have  enough  and  to  spare,  and 
thee  knows  enough  is  as  good  as  a  feast." 

"A  contented  mind  is  a  perpetual  feast,  we  are  told,"  I 
said,  smiling. 

"  Zaccheus  has  made  me  contented,"  she  remarked,  naively. 
"  I  used  to  fret  some  at  the  ways  of  Providence.  He  never 
frets — his  disposition  is  so  even.  He  accepts  sorrows  in 
the  same  thankful  spirit  as  he  does  blessings ;  as  part  of 
the  Lord's  dispensations  to  us,  and  necessary  for  our  spiritual 
growth.  Our  eldest  -boy  was  stricken  by  lightning;  they 
brought  him  in  to  me  black  and  lifeless.  I  felt  very  rebel- 
lious for  a  season,  but  he  never  uttered  a  groan  of  discontent. 
I  felt  sore  wroth  for  a  long  time  after  our  next  son  died — our 
little  Harvey — the  merriest  lad  that  ever  blessed  a  mother's 
love.  He  was  kicked  by  a  horse,  and  died  in  the  greatest 
agony.  Zaccheus  wept  for  his  sufferings,  but  after  they  were 
over,  and  he  lay  still  and  cold  in  his  little  coffin,  he  raised 
up  his  voice  and  gave  thanks.  Rubina,  I  couldn't.  I'm 
loath  to  say  it ;  it  was  wicked  ;  it  was  very  unkind ;  but  I 
turned  and  left  the  room  while  he  was  speaking.  I  went 
off  by  myself  and  tried  to  pray.  I  couldn't ;  I  could  only 
curse.  Oh !  it's  terrible  to  think  of  now."  She  shivered 
at  the  recollection.  "  But  I  did.  I  actually  cursed  my 
Maker.  Zaccheus  found  me  after  a  time,  raving  away  there 
in  the  garret.  Well,  Rubina,  thee  thinks  he  was  displeased 
with  me,  and  rebuked  me  loudly.  Nay,  child,  ile  gathered 


RUBIXA.  421 

me  in  his  arms,  like  as  the  heavenly  Shepherd  gathereth  his 
little  lambs  homeward,  and  wept  with  me  till  I  grew  soothed 
and  comforted.  I  told  him,  then,  of  my  sin ;  how  I  had 
cursed  the  Saviour.  '  Thee  can  do  him  no  harm,  my  poor 
Judith,'  he  said,  calmly.  'Thy  cursing  will  not  move  him 
one  jot,  or  one  tittle,  till  all  his  law  be  fulfilled.  Let  us 
praise  him,  zmd  let  him  do  as  seemeth  him  good.  He  knows 
best  what  is  good  for  us,  and  needful  for  our  salvation.' 
Well,  friend,  I  was  strengthened  by  his  exhortations — Zac- 
cheus  has  a  great  gift  of  counsel — and  I  ceased  to  mourn. 
But  not  for  long,  for  the  Lord  called  me  soon  to  give  up  my 
sole  remaining  son — my  Reuben;  and  again  I  rebelled.  I 
turned  my  heart  against  him,  and  locked  it  up  in  steely  ire, 
and  I  thirsted  greedily  for  revenge.  I  wanted  to  smite  him, 
even  as  he  had  smitten  me;  I  ceased  to  pray  myself,  and  1 
would  not  hear  Zaccheus  pray  either.  After  a  while  he  placed 
before  me  two  pictures.  One  was  little  Reuben  lying  dead 
in  his  little  cot ;  and  another  was  a  man,  grim  and  hardened 
looking,  swinging  from  the  gallows.  '  It  might  have  been 
that.  Which  would  thee  have  it  be,  Judith  ?'  he  said,  kindly, 
and  I  gave  up  the  lad  willingly  from  that  very  hour ;  for  I 
would  rather  bear  children  to  become  cherubs  in  the  Lord's 
mansions  on  high,  than  sinful  culprits  on  earth.  I  see  the 
wisdom  now,"  said  she.  "  Worldly  joys  were  fast  deaden- 
ing my  moral  sensibility.  Any  thing  pleasant  I  drank  with 
eager  relish.  God  sent  these  trials  to  rouse  me  and  place 
my  erring  steps  straight.  Was  it  his  fault  that  I  was  stub- 
born and  dull,  and  needed  a  repetition  ?  All  lessons,  Rubina, 
have  their  price ;  but  thee  knows,  when  rightly  earned,  they 
are  repaid  by  their  own  value."  She  paused  and  wiped  her 
eyes. 

"  You  have   seen   trouble,  indeed,"  I  remarked,  pityingly. 


422  RUBINA. 

"'Twas  a  long  time  after  this  when  Helen  Mar  was  born," 
she  resumed,  placidly.  "  I  besought  the  Lord  to  let  me  keep 
this  one  olive-branch  ;  for  I  began  to  think  that  our  bereave- 
ments were  a  judgment  upon  us  for  the  sin  of  disobedience 
to  our  parents'  wishes.  The  Lord  is  merciful,  and  waiting  to 
be  gracious,  Rubina.  He  graciously  inclined  his  ear  unto  my 
request.  But  '  the  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things,  and 
desperately  wicked  :'  I  think  now  I  am  willing  to  submit  to 
his  will,  whatever  it  may  be,  but  I  cannot  be  sure.  I  might 
be  worse  than  ever,  should  she  be  removed  far  from  me.  I 
cannot  bear  to  think  of  it ;  though  Zaccheus  would  not  be 
troubled.  His  hope  and  foundations  are  sure  ;  my  feet  slip 
continually  in  the  mire  of  selfishness,  and  threaten  to  bury 
ine  forever.  Then  iny  husband's  strength  is  my  shield  and 
deliverance :  he  intercedes  for  me,  and  saves  me  from  my 
worst  enemy — myself."  She  paused,  her  sweet  face  glowing 
with  noble  enthusiasm. 

"  You  felt  just  as  I  should  feel,"  I  said,  presently. 

"  Doubtless,  friend,"  she  answered.  "  Human  nature  is 
so  very  feeble.  Our  lives,  at  best,  are  but  a  dreary  mixture 
of  fraud  to  our  best  selves,  and  deceit  to  others.  Our  aims, 
perhaps,  are  high  enough,  and  pure  enough,  but  toward  their 
attainment,  through  what  deeps  of  selfish  motives  we  wal- 
low— in  what  treacherous  quagmires  of  self-deception  we  stick 
fast !  Is  such  fruit  the  offering  we  should  bring  heavenward  ? 
Is  not  the  motive-power  that  which  our  Maker  regards,  rather 
than  deeds  or  words  ?  These  latter  shrivel  and  fade  away  in 
the  presence  of  Omniscience.  They  are  mere  worthless  dust 
and  ashes  beclouding  our  deeper,  purer,  more  spiritual  na- 
tures." 

"  Is  it  wrong,  then,  to  mourn  our  losses  ?"  I  asked  in  sur- 
prise. 


f 

RUBINA.  423 


"  No  ;  but  to  wrestle  with,  to  resist  the  divine  will,  to  re- 
fuse consolation  when  he  sends  it  in  abundance,  is,  and 
ever  must  be,  wrong,  Rubina.  Let  us  first  purge  otir  hearts 
into  purity,  and  divine  succor  will  reach  us,  will  draw  us 
up  into  a  state  of  religious  submission.  It  was  long  in  com- 
ing to  me,  but  it  has  come — unless  I  am  again  deceived ; 
and  time  only  will  decide  that." 

Zaccheus  asked  me  one  day  for  the  street  and  number  of 
Mrs.  Selwyn's  residence.  I  gave  it,  and  he  returned  shortly 
after  with  my  trunk.  I  was  eager  to  know  the  exact  nature 
of  his  reception,  but  he  would  tell  me  nothing  except  that 
he  saw  none  of  the  inmates  but  Madame,  and  that  she  anath- 
ematized me,  warmly.  "  It  will  do  no  good  to  me  to  repeat 
her  words ;  or  for  thee  to  hear  them.  Let  it  all  drop  into 
furgetfulness,1'  he  said,  gravely.  "  She  fe  a  poor,  sinful  soul, 
and  merits  pity  rather  than  scorn."  He  broke  short  off,  and 
began  to  speak  of  Helen  Mar's  progress  in  study.  "  I  think 
she  is  bright  enough,"  he  began,  "  but  she  sadly  needs  disci- 
pline; eh,  Rubina?" 

"  I  anticipate  no  difficulty  in  that  respect,"  I  hastened  to 
say.  "  She  is  remarkably  gentle,  so  far,  and  quite  beyond 
her  years  in  her  acquirements,  or  else  my  experience  in  teach- 
ing has  been  among  children  as  much  deficient  in  those  stud- 
ies where  she  excels.  She  seems  eager  to  learn,  in  spite  of 
her  restlessness.  I  observe  that  she  cannot  be  coaxed  to  sit 
long  at  any  one  study  ;  the  monotony  seems  to  irk  her.  So 
I  vary  them  ;  give  her  a  bit  of  one  to  learn,  then  a  copy  to 
write,  or  a  sentence  to  analyze,  or  a  few  words  to  spell.  This 
suits  her  ;  she  remarked  at  the  close  of  yesterday,  that  it  did 
not  seem  long  in  the  least." 

In  fact,  we  soon  grew  into  warm  friends.  A  more  affec- 
tionate, merry,  wilful  child  I  never  saw.  She  never  was  at- 


424  RUBINA. 

fccted  into  the  least  quiescence  with  her  sober  surroundings. 
It  was  impossible  to  be. lonely  or  sad  when  she  was  by  ;  she 
soon  kissed  away  the  melancholy — never  resting  until  smiles 
or  a  hearty  laugh  crowned  her  efforts.  Her  mother  often  de- 
clared that  "  her  clatter  was  too  abominable  to  be  borne  ;" 
but  her  contradictory  smile,  as  she  said  it,  proved  plainly 
how  quickly  the  sunshine  would  vanish  from  home  should 
"  the  clatter  "  prematurely  cease.  She  purloined  my  letters 
from  her  father's  overcoat  pocket,  immediately  upon  his  en- 
trance into  the  little  hall,  and  standing  seriously  before  me, 
as  I  sat  at  work,  would  roguishly  wonder  if  I  had  "not  sew- 
ed enough  ;  I  was  pricking  my  fingers  so  dreadfully."  Then, 
when  I  raised  my  eyes  to  see  the  origin  of  her  anxious  care, 
the  quick  sparkle  of  her  deep  blue  eyes  was  sufficient  be- 
trayal, and  I  would  peremptorily  order  its  delivery.  This  she 
always  refused  until  I  had  made  over  my  implements  of  la- 
bor into  her  custody,  to  be  hidden  beyond  my  reach  for  the 
entire  day. 

My  letters  were  all  from  Annah :  though  I  heard  once 
from  Mr.  Hume.  It  bore  the  Northfield  postmark,  where  he 
was  again  sojourning.  He  expressed  much  surprise  at  my 
absence  ;  wondered  that  I  had  not  consulted  his  inclinations, 
"so  plainly  expressed,"  and  renewed  his  "  hope  that  I  was 
now  willing  to  listen  to  the -guidance  of  a  superior  judgment ; 
there  was  a  limit  to  even  his  forbearance."  Stung  at  his  un- 
warrantable tone,  I  replied  bitterly.  To  this  I  got  no  answer, 
and  I  endeavored  to  reason  down  the  pain  I  felt  rising  at 
this  sign  of  indifference  or  scorn,  by  the  old,  worn-out  reflec- 
tion of  Northfield  days  :  "It  is  much  better  so ;  we  are,  on 
some  points,  and  must  ever  be,  both  in  speaking  and  writing, 
continually  at  variance."  It  was  yet  potent,  but  would  it 
always  prove  thus  salutary  ?  Even  now,  at  times,  1  blamed 


RUBINA.  425 

myself  severely,  that  I  could  not,  or  would  not,  advance  one 
step,  and  stretch  forth  my  hand  to  pluck — regret  slyly  whis- 
pered— the  flowers  of  happiness.  "  And  why  should  your 
will  be  paramount  to  peace  ?"  added  the  same  monitor ;  "  why 
should  ardent  dreams  of  a  progressive  future  mar  the  await- 
ing bliss  of  the  present  ?  You  say  that  a  union  with  him 
will  be  the  death  of  your  spirit's  advancement ;  will  dwarf 
every  expanding  faculty,  and  crown  your  whole  nature  with 
dishonor.  Silly  fool !  his  is  a  better  creed.  He  says  that 
woman  has  no  heed  of  progress.  Believe  him !  He  declares 
that  woman's  life  is  abundantly  satisfied  with  daily  crumbs 
doled  out  by  its  master's  stronger  hands.  Accept  tho  decla- 
ration, and  bless  the  generous  giver  for  this  scanty  fare  !  If, 
in  this  submission,  you  miss  the  excitement  of  the  battle  of 
life,  the  long  struggle,  the  hand-to-hand  combat,  and  the 
strength  which  flows  from  victory — will  you  not  likewise  es- 
cape its  harassing  cries,  its  torturing  stings,  sheltered  and 
folded  safe  and  close  in  the  remote  harbor  of  his  love  ?  If 
you  lose  the  voice  of  the  world's  praise,  will  you  not  also 
escape  its  dangers?"  And  after  listening  thus" to  her  soft 
persuasions — far  oftener,  reader,  than  I  care  to  tell — will 
would  rise  up,  scornfully  ;  shake  them  oft"  peremptorily : 
"  If  in  combat  and  victory  there  is  strength,  then  I,  too,  will 
battle  in  it.  Jf  in  unrestrained  knowledge  there  lurks  sweet- 
ness, then  I,  too,  will  taste  it.  The  dregs  of  no  master's  cup 
will  I  drain.  I  will  have  no  crumbs  from  his  table.  Despite 
'  woman's  destiny,'  the  fountain  is  open  for  me  as  well  as 
you ;  and  so,  my  would-be  lord,  farewell."  Alas  !  that  to 
some  farewells  there  should  attach  the  bitterness  of  death. 

Annah's  letters  showed  plainly  that  she  was  not  happy, 
though  she  never  stated  thus  broadly  this  fact.  The  record 
of  her  first  week  in  school  was  full  of  plaintive  misery.  I 


426  RUBIN  A. 

fully  comprehended  her  sufferings,  and  wept  over  them. 
Then  I  read  it  to  Helen,  whose  eyes  glowed  with  tremulous 
pity.  From  Annah's. letter  I  gathered  that  Millicent  walked 
with  her  to  school,  at  her  father's  express  desire — but  van- 
ished through  the  entry  leading  to  the  school-room,  ere  An- 
nah  could  clearly  see  where  she  was  going.  Then  she  open- 
ed the  green  baize  door,  and  timidly  entered,  only  to  meet 
and  shrink  from  the  united  stare  of  three  hundred  pairs  of 
eyes  suddenly  levelled  at  her.  "  I  hardly  knew  any  thing," 
wrote  she  ;  "  I  felt  so  ashamed,  standing  there  all  alone,  and 
I  didn't  see  any  vacant  seats.  Then  I  saw  Hilly,  away  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room,  whispering  to  a  big,  ugly  girl,  who 
looked  at  me  and  laughed.  The  girls  near  me  began  to  gig- 
gle and  hide  their  faces  in  their  books,  and  to  peep  at  me 
from  behind  them.*  Not  one  offered  to  move  along  and  give 
me  a  seat.  It  was  a  very  large  room,  with  wooden  desks 
around  the  sides,  and  rows  of  benches.  A  great  stove  stood 
in  the  centre,  red  hot,  and  a  square  table,  painted  green,  stood 
not  far  from  it,  covered  with  books,  at  which  sat  a  lady.  I 
don't  know  how  long  I  stood  there  before  she  saw  me  ;  long 
enough  to  see  every  thing  in  the  room,  even  to  the  sums  in 
chalk  on  the  long  blackboard.  At  length  one  of  the  girls 
laughed  a  little  too  loud  ;  the  teacher  turned  hastily  and  saw 
me.  She  came  forward,  and  asked  me  if  I  was  a  new  scholar. 
'  Yes,  ma'am,'  I  said,  feeling  ready  to  cry — at  which  answer, 
the  girls  smiled  again  and  looked  at  each  other.  '  Come  this 
way  and  I  will  give  you  a  seat,'  she  said,  kindly  ;  and  she 
found  me  a  vacant  desk,  and  brought  a  book  for  the  morning 
lesson.  '  Did  you  come  alone  ?'  she  asked,  in  a  low  tone.  I 
told  her  just  how  it  was,  Ruby,  and  she  nodded,  and  went 
away  ;  but  after  the  recitation  was  over,  she  called  Milly  out 
before  the  green  table  and  publicly  rebuked  her.  I  felt  sorry 


EUBINA.  427 

for  her  then,  but  I  got  over  it  afterward,  for  she  told  her 
mother  such  a  story  about  me.  She  won't  walk  to  school 
with  me  now,  nor  hardly  ever  notices  me  when  there.  She 
'came  along  just  now,  and  asked  me  who  I  was  writing  to, 
I  told  her,  and  she  wanted  to  read  it.  I  wouldn't  let  her, 
and  she  was  angry  directly.  '  I  suppose  you  have  been  set- 
ting me  out  nicely  to  your  sister,'  said  she  ;  '  ain't  you  asham- 
ed of  it?  You  are  nothing  but  a  dependent;  I  tell  the  girls 
so  too.'  "  There  was  much  more  in  the  same  strain.  The 
whole  letter  was  a  recital  of  petty  yet  stinging  slights  and 
insults,  requiring  ready,  sympathetic  care.  I  wrote  an  imme- 
diate answer  which  I  hoped  might  prove  an  antidote. 

This  was  the  precursor  of  many  such.  During  this  year 
her  letters  were  nearly  all  of  this  stamp — dotted  with  pleasant 
oases  of  warm  affection  for  her  few  friends.  She  made  fre- 
quent mention  of  Milly  and  Edward's  sayings;  their  sarcas- 
tic attempts  to  entertain  her;  and  then  she  dispatched  the 
glad  news  that  they  seemed  to  repent  of  their  unkindncss, 
and  relented  their  teasing.  " 

"  I  am  contented  now,"  wrote  this  sweet,  simple  soul,  "  for 
I  never  knew  how  to  answer  them  back.  I  don't  think  they 
will  trouble  me  any  more."  I  was  glad  too ;  but  the  next 
bulletin  confounded  the  rumor.  I  quote  her  words  :  "  They 
invited  me  to  ride  with  them  last  week  for  the  first  time.  I 
thought  it  a  wonderful  change  ingrafting  itself  on  their  con- 
duct, and  I  was  full  of  delight.  I  sat  on  the  back  seat  with 
Millicent.  Edward  sat  with  the  driver.  It  was  very  plea- 
sant for  a  while,  though  Millioent  said  nothing  to  me.  She 
would  lean  forward  at  intervals  to  drop  a  remark  to  Edward, 
or  to  laugh  at  his  jokes  with  the  driver.  Edward  is  a  coarse 
follow.  I  don't  like  him.  When  she  did  so,  she  would 
glance  superciliously  at  me  to  see  if  I  was  watching  her,  and 


428  RTJBINA. 

if  I  didn't  smile  at  what  he  was  saying  she  curled  her  lip  in 
disdain.  I  didn't  care. .  I  didn't  mind  it  at  all.  It  was 
pleasure  enough  for  me  to  watch  the  people  in  the  streets ; 
to  feel  the  swift  motion  of  the  carriage  and  to  know  that  I 
was  having  a  vide — the  first  and  last  since  I  have  been  here. 
Aunt  and  Milly  ride  almost  daily ;  but  they  never  ask  me  to 
go.  Presently  the  sky  grew  cloudy ;  then  it  grew  darker 
and  began  to  sprinkle,  and  the  driver  turned  around  for 
home.  Then  it  rained  violently.  Edward  sprang  hurriedly 
over  the  seat.  '  Do  you  mind  changing  places  with  me,  Miss 
Hannah  ?' — he  always  calls  me  Hannah,  as  well  as  Milly — he 
said,  insolently ;  at  the  same  time  taking  my  hand  to  pull 
me  up.  I  hesitated ;  for  I  liked  neither  the  tone  nor  the  re- 
quest. I  began  to  see  why  I  had  come — to  be  the  subject 
of  fresh  sport  for  them.  Then  Millicent  spoke  up  in  her 
cool  way,  and  said,  smiling :  '  Why  don't  you  go,  child  ?' — I 
am  as  old  as  herself — '  can't  you  see  that  he  wants  to  sit  by 
me,  you  fool  ?'  she  whispered  in  my  ear ;  and  so — I  was  a 
downright  fool  to  do  it,  Ruby — without  saying  a  word,  I 
clambered  over  the  seat  and  took  his  place.  Of  course,  I 
was  soon  wetted  through  ;  although  Miles — who  looked  sour 
and  cross  enough  at  them — did  his  best  to  keep  the  rain  oft* 
me.  He  pulled  up  the  boot  high,  and  tucked  his  own  over- 
coat around  me ;  but  for  all  that  I  was  soaking  wet  when  we 
reached  home.  I  didn't  care  for  that;  but  it  was  rather  too 
mean  to  laugh  at  me,  as  they  did.  I  heard  them  giggle  and 
whisper  behind  me,  and  Miles  did  too.  He  whipped  the 
horses  all  the  harder  for  it.  Once  I  heard  him  mutter  some- 
thing about  '  that  damned  little  whiffet  of  a  puppy.'  Aunt 
Lucas  met  us  in  the  hall.  She  never  looked  at  me.  '  Oh  ! 
Milly,  I  was  afraid  you  would  get  wet,'  she  said,  anxiously, 
feeling  of  her  clothes  to  see  if  they  were,  damp.  '  Such  rain 


RUBINA.  429 

I  never  saw  before  !  How  lucky  you  were !'  The  rain  ran 
from  ray  garments  in  tiny  drips ;  my  bonnet  was  ruined ;  I 
was  cold  and  miserable.  But  nobody  noticed  it.  I  was 
suffered  to  gather  up  my  sodden  skirts  and  pick  my  way  up 
stairs  to  my  own  little  room,  where,  but  for  your  well-re- 
membered words  of  love  at  our  parting,  I  should  have  sunk 
to  the  floor  disheartened,  and  prayed  to  die.  Don't  laugh, 
sister ;  I  did  a  far  wiser  thing.  I  took  off  my  streaming 
garments ;  I  bound  up  my  dripping  hair,  and  went  to  bed, 
to  sleep  and  dream  of  you,  Ruby;  of  you  and  our  little 
home,  which  looks  so  far — so  dreadfully  far  away  in  the  dim 
future.  I  can  see  it  yet,  however.  It  lures  me  to  make 
every  effort  to  reach  it.  I  have  both  good  news  and  bad 
with  which  to  finish  up  this  letter.  I  have  been  promoted 
in  my  classes  ;  I  am  to  play  at  the  coming  examination,  and 
I  shall  take  singing  lessons  next  quarter.  I  "think  the  teach- 
ers like  me,  for  I  never  laugh  at  them,  and  some  of  the  young 
ladies  do.  They  say  I  make  remarkable  progress  in  music. 
Now  for  the  bad :  •  I  caught  a  slight  cold  after  my  ride  last 
week ;  but  it  is  nothing  dangerous,  so  you  must  not  worry. 
It  is  only  a  slight  huskiness,  which  will  soon  wear  off.  I 
should  not  have  mentioned  it,  but  for  my  promise  to  tell  you 
every  thing." 

A  year  and  a  half  of  effort,  and  no  nearer  the  goal — my 
brightly  cherished,  fast  becoming  impossible,  goal — but  none 
the  less  cherished  for  that  gloomy  vista.  I  was  still  at  Mr. 
Hovey's — Helen  Mar's  teacher.  Through  these  friends'  ex- 
ertions five  more  day  pupils  were  added  to  my  school,  and 
Judith  allowed  me  the  use  of  their  one  front  room  as  a 
school-room.  My  prospects  thus  began  to  brighten  a  little, 
until  I  found,  at  the  close  of  this  second  year,  that  my  for- 
tune barely  sufficed  to  clothe  Annah  and  myself — leaving  a 


430  EUBIXA. 

shrunken  purse  and  the  renewal  of  exertion  to  begin  the  next 
round  of  hope  upon. 

"  Never  mind,"  I  suggested,  as  disappointment  tugged  too 
heavily  at  my  heartstrings.  "  I  must  try  to  find  something 
else  to  do  to  eke  out  my  slender  income ;  and  in  the  mean 
time  I  must  assiduously  cultivate  patience."  Annah's  letters 
were  my  comfort.  They  told  me  that  her  old  tormentor, 
Edward,  was  no  more  seen  at  the  Lucas's ;  his  place  was 
usurped  by  a  rival.  "  You  can't  guess  who,"  wrote  she ;  "  so 
to  ease  your  suspense  I  will  come  to  the  point  at  once.  It's 
the  schoolmaster;  our  old  friend,  Mr.  Hume.  It  seems  very 
curious  that  he  should  turn  up  here  Milly's  lover.  She  says 
he  is.  He  is  vastly  improved  in  person  and  address  since 
Northfield  days,  though,  of  course,  I  knew  him  directly 
He  made  a  miserable  pretence  of  not  recognizing  me,  ex- 
pressing considerable  surprise  at  the  introduction.  Ho  cer- 
tainly does  not  like  to  see  me  around ;  never  speaks  to  me 
if  he  can  avoid  it.  I  don't  know  why ;  he  used  to  notice 
me  a  great  deal ;  we  were  excellent  friends,  as  I  TV..-!'  iemem- 
ber.  At  any  rate,  I  don't  trouble  him  much  with  my  pre- 
sence. Am  I  an  eyesore,  sister?  Sometimes,  when  Aunt 
and  Milly  are  not  by,  he  treats  me  better.  Sometimes  he 
says  such  unaccountable  things,  I  don't  know  what  he  means; 
I  dare  not  tell  Uncle  John,  and  none  of  the  others  would 
believe  roe — but  I  never  answer  him.  If  he  was  not  a  min- 
ister, Ruby — but  I  am  foolish  to  write  you  all  this,  and  so  I 
shall  say  no  more.  Milly  joined  his  church  last  Sunday.  He 
is  settled  here  as  a  minister.  One  more  year  and  I  shall  be 
through  my  studies.  I  confess  I  am  all  impatience  for  the 
time  to  vanish ;  but  it  moves,  to  my  thinking,  on  crippled 
wings.  I  cannot  yet  sing ;  the  huskiness  does  not  leave  my 
voice,  and  I  cannot  account  for  it.  I  cough  none.  I  feel 


EUBINA.  431 

•well.  I  am  well — and  I  can  play  if  I  cannot  sing — so  I  en- 
deavor to  be  content.  Milly  had  a  Christmas  present  this 
year — a  fine  piano.  I  do  so  enjoy  it.  She  is  taking  lessons 
on  the  harp,  and  Uncle  John  urged  me  to  begin  also  ;  but  I 
shall  attempt  no  morn  than  I  can  bring  to  perfection — a  piece 
of  wisdom  I  owe  to  you,  my  Ruby.  I  think  of  you  con- 
stantly in  the  intervals  of  study.  I  weep  for  you,  too,  in 
secret,  and  pray  for  you ;  would  that  it  could  lessen  or 
lighten  your  toil.  I  do  long  to  see  you.  Nearly  two  long 
years  without  even  a  glimpse.  Come  to  me  soon ;  do,  do ; 
come,  if  only  for  a  day,  or  let  me  go  to  see  you.  Uncle 
John  frequently  speaks  of  you,  and  says,  'it  is  time  she 
made  us  a  long  visit.'  I  think  so  too  ;  so,  please  your  lady- 
ship, regard  it  as  a  doxology  duty,  and  not  to  be  shirked 
any  longer." 

I  considered  this  plea  for  a  whole  day ;  but  decided  that 
as  I  was  in  the  middle  of  a  term,  the  visit  must  wait  longer. 
I  wrote  this  much  to  Annah — adding,  that  if  she  liked  to 
venture  on  a  trip  to  see  me,  instead,  I  should  be  delighted 
to  see  her. 

It  was  full  six  weeks  ere  I  got  an  answer.  This  was  a 
brief  kind  note  from  Uncle  John  :  "  Annah  was  very  sick. 
They  thought  it  a  slight  illness  at  first — not  necessary  to 
rouse  my  fears ;  but  she  was  growing  worse,  and  called  for 
me  constantly.  Would  I  start  immediately  ?  and  not  be 
frightened,  as  there  was  every  reason  to  hope  for  her  ulti- 
mate recovery." 

"  Would  I  start  ?"  I  repeated,  bitterly.  Of  course  I  would. 
I  got  ready  without  the  delay  of  a  moment  I  put  my 
things  together  as  in  a  dream  ;  making  unnecessary  journeys 
from  garret  to  cellar  after  I  knew  not  what,  until  waylaid  by 
Judith,  who  followed  me  very  motherly,  and  asked  what  I 


432  RUBINA. 

wanted.  She  watched  me  anxiously  at  first ;  then  took  pity 
on  my  distracted  state  of  mind,  and  helped  me  to  collect  my 
wits  when  they  went  staggering,  by  dropping  kind,  placid 
observations.  I  heard  her  gratefully  and  assented,  but  came 
directly  to  the  old  topic. 

Dear  reader,  have  you  ever  noticedj  when  laboring  in  the 
mire  of  a  heavy  sorrow,  or  pressed  down  by  an  overwhelm- 
ing care,  how  the  mind  shrinks  suddenly  from  its  former  ex- 
pansion, and  keeps  on  narrowing,  contracting,  shutting  in  its 
walls  upon  itself,  until  the  one  grievous  thought  stands  isolated 
there  from  all  contact  with  sympathy  ?  There  it  reigns  su- 
preme— not  the  less  a  burden  that  it  is  a  kingly  one — and 
looks  out  upon  the  gay,  happy  world  around  its  sphere  in 
wonder.  Consolation  !  Who  speaks  of  consolation  ?  "Go 
away — away !  leave  me  alone;  do  not  speak  to  me !"  it  says, 
in  its  secret  cell.  "Your  words  sound  strangely;  so  widely 
short  of  the  mark ;  so  unfeeling.  What  do  you  know  of 
that  which  /  feel  ?  Leave  me  to  myself." 

So  sounded  Judith's  efforts  to  console  me,  as  she  folded 
my  dresses,  gathered  my  books  together,  and  zealously  pre- 
pared jellies  and  cordials  in  a  neat  little  box,  for.  me  to  take. 
"  It  may  not  be  as  bad  as  thee  thinks,  dearest  friend,"  she 
said,  with  genuine  pity  softening  her  voice.  "Don't  thee 
go  to  borrowing  of  trouble.  He  is  a  hard  paymaster,  and 
will  dun  thee  sorely."  I  smiled  absently,  "  Now  thee  shall 
keep  thy  pupils.  I  will  speak  to  their  parents  this  very 
night.  Thee  will  find  every  thing  all  right  and  ready  for  thy 
hand  when  thee  comes  back  to  us." 

'I  groaned  inwardly.  "  What  did  I  then  care  for  pupils  ? 
What  if  she  should  die  ?  He  said  she  was  very  sick,"  I 
whispered,  in  terror ;  then  shrank  quivering  from  the  boldly 
expressed  fear. 


RUBINA.  433 

"  She  will  not  die,  Rubina,  unless  the  Lord  wills  it,"  said 
Judith,  gently.  "  He  holds  thee  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand. 
Rely  on  him  and  be  comforted." 

Her  simple  faith  was  a  torture.  "  Die  and  leave  me,"  I 
apathetically  repeated,  going  away  from  my  sweet,  would- 
be  comforter.  Oh !  she  cannot.  She  never  would  of  her 
own  accord,  and  heaven  will  not  be  thus  cruel.  Just  now, 
when  a  thread  of  light  begins  to  streak  my  labors ;  when  the 
long  separation  seems  about  to  draw  to  a  close.  No  ;  it 
cannot  be.  Yet,  what  should  tempt  me  to  dream  otherwise  ? 
What  have  I  ever  done  to  merit  forbearance  ?  What  have  I 
loved  that  He  has  not  ruthlessly  taken  ?  Friends  wither 
from  my  grasp,  like  new-mown  hay  under  the  sun's  fierce 
glare.  Must  idols  always  be  broken  ?  I  asked  again  and 
again,  with  bitter  tears.  I  am  stricken ;  render  me  not 
utterly  desolate.  "  My  life  is  a  famine  in  the  midst  of  abun- 
dance ;  feed  and  succor  it,  or  cut  it  off  entirely,"  I  prayed, 
"  for,  as  it  is,  it  but  cumbereth  the  soil  with  weeds." 

Zaccheus  took  me  to  the  depot.  I  saw  the  cars  steam 
like  a  roaring  lion  up  to  the  station.  I  went  in  ;  took  me- 
chanically the  first  seat  which  offered  itself,  and  meekly 
suffered  Zaccheus  to  place  me  in  a  better,  at  his  gentle  sug- 
gestion. I  felt  his  kind  parting  hand-clasp,  and  heard,  as 
though  it  was  an  echo  afar  off,  his  low,  musical  "  Good-by, 
friend  !  God  guide  and  speed  thee  safely  !"  and  was  vaguely 
conscious  of  being  borne  onward  by  a  mighty  force,  which 
yet  lagged  remorselessly — leagues  behind  my  onward  speed- 
ing thoughts  and  fears.  It  was  foolish  and  useless,  of  course, 
to  try  to  quicken  our  pace  by  repeating,  mentally,  all  the 
exclamations  of  impatient  teamsters,  to  goad  on  their  tired 
steeds ;  but  over  and  over  I  sounded  them,  until  I  found  one 
of  the  passengers  curiously  regarding  me.  I  had  no  fancy 
19 


434  RUBINA. 

to  be  thought  insane.  I  considered  that  I  might  really 
become  so,  if  1  allowed  my  fears  so  to  influence  me.  I  en- 
deavored for  the  rest  of  the  way  to  zealously  keep  my  eyes 
on  outside  objects.  Fields,  fences,  trees,  brief  lovely  glimpses 
of  the  river,  and  cool  suburban  residences  met  ray  stare  and 
vanished.  Precipitous  rocky  ledges,  sandy  banks  shelving 
down  to  the  track,  down  which  children,  freckled,  bonnet- 
less  and  hatless,  put  their  bare,  brown  feet,  and  recklessly 
slid.  I  hoped,  heartlessly,  that  we  might  run  over  a  few  by 
way  of  excitement ;  but  they  were  too  used  to  the  sport  to 
be  capable  of  fear,  and  they  sent  after  us  merry  shouts  of 
defiance.  Then  the  city  began  to  send  along  its  highways 
straggling  indications  of  its  nearness';  tall,  narrow  dwellings, 
and  the  absence  of  court-yards.  And  finally,  we  rumbled, 
and  whistled,  and  steamed  in  at  the  long  covered  depot. 

Annah  was  too  ill  to  know  me  when  I  reached  the  house. 
Uncle  John  took  me  up  to  her  room  at  once.  Aunt  Hannah 
sat  by  the  bedside,  fanning  her.  She  greeted  me  quite 
warmly,  and  seemed  relieved  to  abandon  her  post.  I  paid 
no  heed  to  her  lengthy  explanation  of  the  manner  of  her 
attack,  or  to  her  dreary  recital  of  symptoms.  It  was  suffi- 
cient to  know  and  feel  that  she  lay  helpless  before  me.  I 
only  cared  to  know  the  nature  of  the  medicines  on  the  table, 
and  the  hours  in  which  to  administer  them.  I  felt  cool  and 
calm  as  I  summoned  my  energies  to  their  work.  "  No  aban- 
donment to  weakening  emotions  now,"  I  said,  desperately, 
as  I  lifted  the  emaciated  form  into  a  more  comfortable  pos- 
ture ;  throwing  out  the  heated  pillows  and  substituting  cool 
fresh  ones.  She  was  delirious,  and  raved  constantly  of  her 
school,  her  studies.  Then  she  vented  her  vexation  that  she 
could  not  master  the  piece  of  music  before  her,  in  terms  of 
heart-rending  impatience.  Anon  she  moaned  wearily,  and 


EUBINA.  435 

called  plaintively  for  "  Ruby  ;  Sister  Ruby ;  my  sister.  Why 
don't  you  bring  her  to  me  ?  You  keep  her  shut  up  in  that 
dark  hole  all  day,  and  no  light  creeps  in  to  her,  as  she  sews, 
sews,  sews,  and  works,  works,  works,  and  I  want  her.  I 
want  her,  I  tell  you,  and  I  will  have  her  too.  She  is  mine,  I 
say.  What  do  the  dragons  want  of  her,  that  they  creep 
and  crawl  around  her  so  ?  I  wish  I  could  kill  them ;  but  I 
cannot.  Oh !  dear,  dear."  The  weak  arm  fell  powerless  on 
the  quilt.  I  watched  with  her  alone.  In  the  morning  Milly 
came  in,  rather  constrainedly  offering  to  remain  in  the  sick- 
room while  I  went  down  to  breakfast.  Accordingly  I  left 
her.  How  gloomy  the  great  rooms  looked  below,  as  I  softly 
journeyed  through  them  on  my  way  to  the  basement !  A 
death-like  hush  seemed  to  settle  on  every  chair,  table,  and 
cornice.  The  gorgeous  curtains  draped  the  windows  like 
solemn  palls  prematurely  falling  before  a  too  vivid  glory.  I 
held  my  breath  as  I  glided  through,  and  felt  for  the  slippery 
banisters  leading  to  the  dining-room.  Here  all  was  cheerful. 

"  We  live  here  since  she  was  taken  down,"  observed  Aunt 
Lucas,  pouring  out  my  coffee,  which  I  drank  in  silence. 
"  How  did  she  rest  ?"  she  presently  asked. 

"  She  talked  constantly,"  I  returned. 

"  Yes,  she  has  been  out  of  her  head  now  for  over  a  week," 
she  said,  sedately  ;  "  but  Doctor  Mansfield  says  that  is  to  be 
expected." 

"  What  does  he  say  ails  her  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Brain  fever,  brought  on  by  too  much  study.  Her  throat 
is  affected  some,  too,"  she  replied,  with  an  air  of  indifference 
that  I  did  not  relish.  The  doctor  came  while  she  was  speak- 
ing. I  went  immediately  up-stairs.  He  was  feeling  her 
pulse  as  I  entered.  He  was  a  tall,  thin,  grave  man,  and  he 
bowed,  without  speaking,  as  Milly  introduced  me. 


436  RUBINA. 

"  I  am  glad  you  have  come ;  she  needs  constant  care,"  he 
said,  as  he  prepared  a  new  prescription,  and  took  his  leave. 

"  Is  there  any  hope,  doctor  3"  I  managed  to  inquire,  as  he 
crossed  the  threshhold  with  a  careful  stride. 

"  Of  course,  my  dear  woman,  great  hope  ;  but  the  danger 
is  not  yet  past,"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone.  "  I  shall  come  to- 
night and  stay  awhile  with  her.  If  she  sleeps,  do  not  waken 
her  on  any  account."  He  bowed  low  and  trod  softly  down 
the  long  staircase. 

She  did  not  sleep.  All  day  she  prattled  ceaselessly,  sink- 
ing at  intervals  into  a  kind  of  murmur,  totally  unintelligible. 
The  domestics  came  frequently  to  inquire  if  I  needed  any 
assistance,  and  Susan,  the  chambermaid,  watched  with  her 
while  I  took  my  meals.  Milly  went  off  in  the  afternoon  for 
a  fortnight's  visit,  declaring  that  it  was  too  dull  and  dreary  to 
be  longer  borne. 

A  week*passed,  ere  she  knew  me.  The  doctor  declared  all 
immediate  danger  over,  but  stipulated  expressly  for  th'e  great- 
est caution  against  a  relapse.  I  was  only  too  thankful  for  this  ; 
thankful  that  she  knew  my  voice,  and  loved  the  caresses  I  be- 
stowed upon  her,  for  she  had  not  yet  seen  me.  Her  eyes 
were  badly  inflamed  and  swollen,  and  were  kept  scrupulously 
bandaged.  Neither  could  she  utter  a  word.  The  ravings  of 
delirium  seemed  to  have  utterly  exhausted  her  strength ;  her 
greatest  efforts  only  producing  a  whisper.  She  complained 
more  and  more  of  her  throat ;  of  the  pressure  encircling  it — 
trying  to  remove  it  by  tearing  at  it  with  her  feeble  fingers. 

Altogether  we  had  more  cause  for  fear  than  for  hope,  as 
days,  and  weeks  even,  wore  tediously  away,  and  brought  no 
very  formidable  steps  toward  that  land  of  promise  to  an  in- 
valid— entered  through  the  golden  gates  of  convalescence. 


RUBINA.  437 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

DURING  all  this  time  I  had  not  once  met  Mr.  Hume,  who 
was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  house.  Three  months  had  swept 
away  since  my  arrival.  I  passed  them  for  the  most  part  in 
anxious,  solitary  nursing.  I  sought  and  obtained  slop-work 
from  the  shops  with  which  to  employ  my  leisure  hours,  and 
when  Annah  slept  or  dozed,  I  sewed  diligently ;  then,  while 
my  fingers  fought  the  coarse  garments  with  their  tiny  wea- 
pons, my  thoughts  battled  none  the  less  resolutely  their  mo- 
nopoly of  bitter  discontent.  I  often  wondered  that  he  never 
asked  for  me  ;  but  after  the  usual  daily  pondering  of  the  mat- 
ter, I  one  day  reflected  that  very  likely  he  was  unaware  of  mv 
presence  in  the  house — it  is  so  galling  to  pride  to  admit  the 
idea  of  forgetfulness.  "  Milly  or  her  mother  are  not  likely  to 
speak  of  me  to  any  one,  especially  if  they  thought  it  would 
gratify  me,  and  they  know  that  we  were  once  friends,"  thought 
I,  apologetically.  "  And  though  he  knows,  probably,  that 
Annah  has  been  dangerously  ill,  and  is  even  yet  too  feeble  to 
be  visible  below,  he  might  suppose  her  to  be  in  the  tender 
charge  of  a  hired  nurse  ;  a  natural  supposition,  as  Aunt  Han- 
nah and  Milly  are  never  in  the  sick-room,  or,  as  she  is  out  of 
sight,  most  probably  she  is  out  of  mind  also.  A  lover  in  the 
presence  of  his  mistress  is  not  apt  to  think  of  aught  else.  Her 
lover  ?  But  he  was  once  mine."  I  stung  my  shrinking  heart 
again  and  again  with  this  useless  accusation  :  it  gave  me  back 
only  humble  silence.  Then  my  pride  rose.  "  If  he  did  know 
of  my  proximity,  and  did  not  choose  to  see  me — did  not 
choose  to  be  civil  for  the  sake  of  the  old  friendship,  it  was 
well  enough,"  I  reasoned.  "  What  did  I  care  for  him  ?  what, 


438  EUBINA. 

indeed  !  He  was  so  unsubstantial  (I  cast  about  vainly  for  a 
better  word,  and  said  this,  after  all,  with  a  smile),  so  deceitful, 
so  selfishly  tyrannical."  "  Oh  !  but  you  don't  tihink  so  ?iow, 
whatever  you  may  once  have  thought,"  ironically  interrupted 
Reason,  with  her  cold,  galling  smile.  "  When  others  bear 
away  the  favors  you  scorned,  you  start  up  eager  to  accept 
them."  She  was  ready,  and  pluming  herself  for  an  argumen- 
tative battle.  I  felt  it,  and  skilfully  avoided  her.  I  bit  my 
lip  in  disdain,  and  put  down  into  its  former  dark  corner  in 
my  heart  the  lingering  tenderness  which  had  so  long  lived 
there  half  smothered,  but  which  was  always  persistently  strug- 
gling upward  to  the  daylight — sending  tiny,  clasping  shoots 
to  plead  for  it ;  for  a  sunnier  warmth,  a  richer  mould,  heavier 
dews.  "Lie  there  until  the  resurrection,"  I  said,  half  angrily. 
"I  will  not  care  for  yon  ;  I  will  not  think  of  you,  even  ;  go 
in  peace." 

After  all,  I  could  and  did  foster  the  shoots  with  delighted 
willingness.  At  first  I  felt  ire  at  his  marked  neglect,  then 
sadness,  then  forgiveness.  I  caught  myself  very  often  fram- 
ing excuses  for  him,  and  overwhelm in.g  my  own  conduct  with 
bitter  reproaches.  Oftener  than  I  care  to  tell,  I  made  him 
like  unto  a  god,  and  was  more  than  content  to  sink  worship- 
ping at  his  feet.  No  Roman  fanatic  ever  kissed  a  shrine  with 
more  insensate  devotion,  than  I,  in  my  loving*  imagination, 
wore  away,  with  like  caresses,  the  sharp  edges  of  his  charac- 
ter. I  filed  them  with  many,  many  reveries,  in  which  each 
one  took  off  something  rough,  ragged,  and  formerly  hateful 
to  me,  until  the  surface  stood  forth,  rounded  into  lines  of 
faultless  beauty.  Yes;  absence  from  him,  and  neglect  on 
his  part ;  the  dull,  absorbing  images  of  daily  cares  and  toils, 
and  my  own  indignant  denials  of  the  unwelcome  fact,  \\civ 
insufficient  to  uproot  this  love,  which  grew  with  a  rapidity 


RUBINA.  439 

that  appalled  me.  And  the  bitterness  of  the  cup  was  my 
fall  consciousness  of  his  utter  unworthiness.  I  knew  all  the 
while  that  with  renewed  communion  with  him,  perhaps  with 
even  a  look,  my  old  stubbornness  would  revive;  my -hero 
sink  again  a  serf.  But  that  did  not  abate  one  whit  the  pas- 
sionate ardor  of  the  present  longing  for  his  presence.  Do 
you  care  to  ask  the  reason  for  this  love?  the  processes  by 
which  the  tiny  archer  sunk  his  shaft  there  unbidden,  unwish- 
ed for — keener  than  steel  in  the  fleshly  tabernacle  ?  I  know 
not.  My  former  affection  for  him — half  smothered  in  pas- 
sionate resentment — was  but  dying  embers  to  this  fierce 
flame  now  raging:  it  had  never  been  worthy  of  the  name. 
It  was  not  that  Evil,  in  my  nature,  was  supreme.  It  was  only 
that  Good  lay  dormant,  and  Evil,  roused  by  its  torpor,  throve 
the  more  vigorously.  Little  by  little,  it  grew  a  delight  to 
think  of  him  constantly  by  day,  and  to  dream  of  him  by 
night.  Then,  if  waked  by  a  random  noise,  my  thought,  wak- 
ing likewise,  still  kept  its  guiding-star  in  vigilant  view,  and 
magnetically  plunged  after  it. 

A  woman  loves  best  when  the  object  is  withdrawn  from 
her.  Pity  for  an  injury,  a  repulse,  a  slight,  a  misapprehen- 
sion, real  or  fancied,  leads  the  chase.  It  is  but  a  step  from 
cold  disdain,  from  absolute  indifference,  from  scorn  even, 
and  a  desire  to  ridicule,  to  a  passion  so  pure  and  glowing,  so 
forgetful  of  visibly  repellant  points,  so  full  of  the  generosity 
of  self-sacrifice,  that  to  swamp  his  faults  and  vices  in  a  veil 
of  marvellous  virtues,  is  but  the  work  of  an  instant ;  that  to 
live  for  him,  to  suffer  for  him,  to  die  for  him,  becomes  to  her 
thought  the  only  bliss  for  earth — the  only  martyrdom  fit  for 
heaven. 

Oh  !  if  such  love  be  a  delirium,  it  is  none  the  less  priceless, 
as  it  gilds  the  inner  life  with  sunny  reflections,  and  wakes  it 


440  KUBIXA. 

to  more  vivid  perceptions  of  outward  beauty.  The  eye,  turn 
it  where  you  will — upon  the  printed  page,  the  glazed  case- 
ment, bare  white  walls,  or  cold,  gray  ashes — sees,  but  discerns 
none  of  these  things,  for  the  sunlight,  the  mellow  starlight, 
the  glimpses  of  distant,  dreamy  Edens  that  make  the  dreari- 
est surroundings  seem  lovely.  Then  the  harsh  sounds  of  ev- 
ery-day  life  grow  musical.  The  mind  hears  continual  vespers, 
and  wild,  sweet  songs  of  praise  float  with  every  unconscious 
heart-beat  to  the  Author  and  Source  of  this  strange  emotion. 
Every  thing  divine  is  love.  (  Then  why  should  not  this  spark 
of  divinity  in  us  acknowledge  its  originator  ?  Love  to  love  ; 
the  grosser  subject  to  the  purer,  the  human  to  the  heavenly, 
but  still  the  same  essential  essence,  pursuing  the  same  immor- 
tal destiny. 

When  the  street-door  bell  rang  I  often  opened  my  door  to 
catch,  perchance,  the  tones  of  his  voice  in  the  hall  below.  I 
was  surprised  to  find  how  I  thrived  on  this  scanty  aliment ; 
on  the  brief  echo  of  a  common-place  greeting  as  he  entered, 
or  the  faint  ripple  of  a  laugh.  These  I  gathered  to  myself 
and  exulted  over  for  hours,  if  not  roused  from  my  selfish 
mood  by  a  whispered  request  from  Annah,  or  at  her  gently 
expressed  wonder  at  my  long  silence.  She  could  not  note 
the  changes  in  my  face,  for,  dear  sufferer,  she  could  yet  see 
nothing.  Her  recovery  to  her  former  perfect  health  began 
to  assume  a  doubtful  hue.  A  swelling  appeared  on  her  round, 
white  throat,  which  grew  steadily  in  size,  and  was  very  op- 
pressive. She  would  gasp  for  breath,  and  clutch  at  it  with 
her  feeble  fingers,  as  if  to  rend  it  from  her.  When  she  spoke, 
it  was  with  a  huskiness  inexpressibly  painful.  She  made 
vigorous  attempts  to  sit  up,  to  walk ;  she  seemed  to  look 
hopefully  forward ;  she  spoke  cheerfully  when  she  alluded  to 
herself,  but  that  was  seldom.  I  was  not  deceived  by  her  as- 


RUBIXA.  441 

suraed  cheerfulness.  I  knew,  by  one  little  incident,  that  she 
considered  her  case  hopeless.  This  was  when  one  day,  com- 
ing suddenly  upon  her,  I  found  her  praying.  She  did  not 
hear  the  door  open,  and  I  stood  still  one  moment  to  listen. 
It  was  barely  a  whisper,  but  yet  quite  audible  :  "  Help,  oh 
help  her  to  bear  it !"  was  the  burden  of  the  cry — then,  after 
a  pause,  "Take  me  now,  dear  Saviour;  leave  me  not  to  be 
a  terrible  burden;  it  is  easier  to  die  than  to  linger  on  through 
years  of  helplessness."  I  shut  the  door,  and  stole  softly 
away,  unable  to  hear  any  more  of  the  soft,  agonized  pleading. 
This  secret,  unspoken  conclusion  of  hers  haunted  me.  It 
banished  all  regretful  love-dreams,  and  stirred  within  me  re- 
morseful thrills  for  their  indulgence.  She  must  recover.  I 
dreaded  to  allude  to  it  openly ;  yet  inwardly  it  fretted  and 
goaded  me  to  all  sorts  of  desperate  shifts  to  learn  its  truth 
or  falsity.  I  descended  to  employ  petty  meannesses  as  scouts: 
I  blush  to  think  of  numberless  times  in  which  I  played  the 
eaves-dropper.  Many  a  time  I  stole  to  my  aunt's  room — 
where  in  the  morning  she  was  quartered  with  Milly — and 
placing  my  ear  to  the  keyhole,  listened.  A  word  here  and 
there  I  caught,  but  of  these  I  could  not  string  enough  to- 
gether to  make  any  sensible  meaning.  The  doctor  was  grave 
and  silent,  and  pitiful.  His  few  phrases  were  of  a  hopeful 
strain  always.  He  doubtless  disliked  to  confirm  or  implant 
fears,  as  long  as  a  strand  remained  on  which  to  weave  a 
healthful  coil.  I  dogged  his  steps  down  stairs  sometimes 
to  the  family  room,  where  he  usually  made  a  brief,  friendly 
call,  on  coming  from  the  sick-chamber.  My  care  procured 
me  nothing ;  he  never  spoke  of  her.  I  spied  in  the  servants' 
quarters,  and  as  their  voices  were  generally  pitched  several 
octaves  above  the  kitchen  din  and  bustle,  I  found  no  difficulty 
in  hearing  them.  Very  amusing  things  my  inquisitiveness 
19* 


442  RUBINA. 

gained  for  repayment;  odd  remarks  about  sweethearts  and 
wakes,  with  frequent  reference  to  Miss  Milly  and  the  minis- 
ter. I  did  not  comprehend  these  latter  allusions.  They  spoke 
of  something  being  wrong;  what?  I  cared  not,  now — no 
word  of  what  I  longed  to  know. 

It  was  Susan,  a  kind-hearted  girl  in  the  main,  who  finally 
told  me.  She  came  up  one  day  to  inquire  if  she  could  be 
of  service.  I  thought  of  nothing,  and  thus  told  her,  but  she 
lingered. 

"  How  be  her  eyes,  Miss?"  she  asked,  in  a  whisper. 

"  Very  painful  to-day,"  was  all  I  could  utter. 

"Dr.  Mansfield  says  she'll  be  stone-blind  for  life,"  next  ob- 
served she,  timidly.  "  None  will  tell  you,  but  I  tell  'em  you 
ought  to  know,  and  so  I  did,"  was  her  somewhat  confused 
apology.  "  I  feel  for  you,  Miss ;  I  do,  indeed,"  and  the  kind- 
hearted  girl  broke  fairly  down  with  a  sob.  "  Miss,"  said  she, 
presently,  wiping  her  eyes  with  the  back  of  her  plump  hand, 
"  you'd  better  take  the  air  a  little  ;  it'll  do  you  good,  and  I'll 
stay  here  with  her.  You  look  as  thin  as  a  rail ;  do  let  me 
stay,  and  go." 

I  finally  yielded,  and  went  noiselessly  down  stairs.  As  I 
passed  the  drawing-room  door  I  heard  Mr.  Hume's  voice,  and 
the  temptation  was  strong  to  stop  and  listen.  "  Why  do  you 
not  frame  an  errand  in  there,  and  so  gain  a  greeting,  or  at 
least  observe  how  your  unexpected  presence  affects  him  ?"  a 
momentary  inclination  suggested.  Pride  indignantly  repelled 
it,  and  with  a  sneer  told  me  not  to  stand  dallying  there  like 
a  fool.  I  softly  opened  the  massive  door,  stepped  out,  and 
as  quietly  closed  it.  It  was  a  warm  evening  for  autumn. 
Twilight  blent  its  soothing  radiance  with  the  streaming  gas- 
light at  each  corner.  There  were  sudden  flushes  in  the  at- 
mosphere, which  made  the  heat  at  times  almost  oppressive. 


RUBINA.  443 

Then  as  sudden  a  current  of  fresh  air  cooled  it.  Happy  fara- 
lies  clustered  in  cheerful  parlors  with  wide  open  blinds 
and  windows,  enjoying  the  evening  reunion.  Merry  couples 
chatted  laughingly  on  pleasant  balconies,  or  leaned  over  their 
iron  railings  to  exchange  gay  badinage  with  acquaintances  in 
the  street  below.  These  sauntered  up  and  down  the  pave- 
ment, decked  in  light  summer  habiliments.  Gay  birds  of 
Paradise  they  looked — apparently  strangers  to  any  thing  that 
smacks  of  care  or  sorrow,  it  was  a  night  in  which  to  live 
out  of  doors.  The  essence  of  summer,  condensed  into  the 
more  pungent  airs  of  autumn.  Only  a  moon  was  needed,  to 
swing  her  golden  ball  among  clustering  stars  in  the  cloudless 
blue  arch,  and  thereby  add  a  finishing  glory. 

I  walked  along;  but,  charming  as  the  night  was,  I  did  not 
enjoy  it.  Gay  and  mirthful  as  the  scene  was  on  either  side,  I 
was  not  amused  thereby.  I  turned  and  went  homeward — 
quite  too  sad  at  heart  for  an  aimless  evening  stroll.  Mr. 
Hume,  it  seems,  had  departed  ;  at  least,  I  heard  no  voices  as 
I  entered  the  hall,  and  mounted  the  dim  staircase.  In  the 
upper  entry  I  met  Susan  returning  to  her  charge  by  the  back 
stairs  leading  to  the  kitchen.  In  much  surprise  I  questioned 
her ;  she  interrupted  me  by  explaining  that  Miss  Milly  had 
sent  her  for  a  glass  of  water. 

"  Miss  Milly  !  where  is  she  ?"  I  asked  briefly. 

"  In  there."  She  pointed  to  the  door  of  the  sick-cham- 
ber. "  She  came  in  while  Miss  Annah  was  asleep " 

I  left  her  speaking,  and  opened  the  door ;  but  I  stood 
paralyzed  on  the  threshold  ;  for,  like  a  fiend  glowering  over 
its  mortal  prey,  stood  Milly  by  the  bedside,  her  eyes  dilated 
with  horrible  triumph,  flaring  a  candle  slowly 'to  and  fro  before 
Annah's  inflamed,  sightless  orbs.  She  held  in  the  other  hand 
the  bandage  that  had  covered  them  when  I  left  the  house. 


444  RUBINA. 

I  was  so  shocked,  that  for  a  moment  I  could  not  command 
my  voice ;  then  I  must  have  made  some  strange  noise  for- 
eign to  human  ears,  for  she  started  in  affright,  looked 
around,  and  dropped  the  candle.  I  was  quivering  with  rage 
by  this  time.  I  advanced  towards  her. 

"  Stop,"  she  almost  shouted.  "  Don't  come  near  me 
looking  like  that.  Don't  you  touch  me.  You  dare  not." 

"  See  if  I  dare  not,"  I  retorted  savagely,  as  I  clutched  her 
by  the  throat,  and  shook  her  heartily.  She  tried  to  speak, 
to  scream,  but  could  only  gasp  as  1  held  her  in  that  vice-like 
clasp,  while  Susan  looked  on  in  dismay,  and  Annah  vainly 
whispered  me  to  "  let  her  go — let  her  be" — not  rightly 
comprehending  the  scene,  but  vaguely  feeling  that  some- 
thing was  wrong. 

"  My  God,  I  believe  I  could  kill  you,"  T  said  cxultingly. 

Susan  screamed,  and  ran  away — for  assistance,  I  suppose. 
Aunt  Hannah  quickly  appeared,  very  white,  very  much 
frightened,  but  desperately  angry,  as  the  strong  gleam  of  her 
eye  told  plainly.  Behind  her  was  my  uncle,  whose  ring,  fol- 
lowing mine,  had  but  just  sounded.  I  kept  my  hold. 

"  What  does  all  this  mean  ?"  stormed  Aunt  Hannah,  ad- 
vancing and  striking  down  my  arm.  Milly  dropped  help- 
lessly at  my  feet.  "  You  wicked  woman,  you've  killed  her ; 
you've  murdered  her,"  screamed  her  ihother,  flinging  up  her 
hands  and  sending  forth  a  piercing  yell. 

"  I  hope  I  have,"  I  said,  recklessly.  "  But  there's  no  such 
good  fortune.  The  devil  is  not  so  easily  killed." 

"John!  Susan!  call  the  officers.  Don't  let  her  escape," 
she  screamed  frantically.  "  Oh  !  I  always  knew  'twould 
come  to  this,"  she  moaned.  "  She  has  such  an  awful  dis- 
position 1" 

"  Very  true,"  I  observed,  still  quivering  with  excitement. 


RUBINA.  445 

"  You  own  it,  then.     What  a  brazen  face  !"  she  declared. 

"  If  you  refer  to  my  cousin's  disposition,  it  is  very  evi- 
dent," I  retorted.  I  stooped  to  feel  of  her.  "  Oh  !  she  will 
live  to  make  more  mischief  yet,"  I  added,  as  Milly  here 
kicked  out  at  me,  and  struggled  up  on  her  feet.  I  don't 
know  what  they  would  have  done  to  me — my  aunt  and 
cousin  together — if,  for  almost  the  first  time  in  his  hen- 
pecked life,  Uncle  John  had  not  interfered.  Even  now  I 
cannot  comprehend  by  what  means  he  wrought  his  courage 
to  such  a  pitch  of  resistance.  They  raved  and  shrieked  like 
mad  women.  Of  that  sick-chamber,  for  a  space — whether 
long  or  brief,  I  cannot  tell — they  made  a  hell.  Then  the 
domestics  swarmed  on  the  scene ;  astonished,  frightened, 
they  stood  aloof  and  whispered  together. 

"  You  turn  against  your  own  child,"  at  length  exclaimed 
Aunt  Hannah,  sobbing  hysterically  —  thereby  becoming 
somewhat  calmer.  Milly  gave  him  a  sullen  glance,  and  fell 
back  behind  her  mother. 

"  No  I  don't,  Hannah,"  he  said,  sinking  at  once  into  his 
old  character.  ;'  But  1  didn't  want  you  to  abuse  her  like 
that,  right  before  my  face  and  eyes,  if  I  could  stop  it ;  and 
there's  no  knowing  what  you  might  have  done.  You  lost 
your  reason." 

"  'Twant  nothing  before,  I  suppose,"  she  answered  short- 
ly. "  "What  if  she  had.  strangled  Milly  ?  would  you  have  in- 
terfered, I  wonder  ?"  with  a  sceptical  sneer. 

"  I  wasn't  afraid  of  it,"  said  he,  calmly.  "  I  don't  say 
that  she  was  altogether  right,  but  she  must  have  had  some 
provocation  to  act  as  she  did." 

"  Oh  yes,  Mr.  Lucas.  Of  course  she  had.  No  one  else 
ought  to  have  provocation,"  she  said  spitefully. 

He  looked  distressed.     "  Tell  us  how  it  was,  Susan,"  he 


446  RUBINA. 

implored  ;  "  and  all  of  you  listen.  You  are  a  truthful  girl, 
I  believe,  and  whatever  you  say  we  will  believe." 

"No  indeed  we  won't.  I  won't  for  one,"  interrupted 
my  aunt,  with  a  vengeful  twitch  of  her  chair. 

Susan  flared  at  this,  and  there  ensued  a  long  altercation 
between  mistress  and  maid,  during  which  I  picked  up  and 
replaced  the  bandage,  and  whispered  her  "  not  to  mind  it." 
She  felt  for  my  hand,  and  kissed  it.  "  Don't  get  angry  for 
me,  Ruby  ;  it  is  not  worth  while." 

"  Isn't  it  ?"  I  muttered,  not  quite  calmly ;  "  we  shall  see !" 

Susan,  for  once,  was  victorious  over  her  mistress,  and 
finally  commenced  her  story,  amid  the  indignant  glances  and 
open  mouths  of  the  wondering  servants.  It  was  plain  that 
they  considered  her  a  sort  of  heroine,  and  that  this  affair,  if 
it  did  not  spread  beyond  the  kitchen  fireside,  would  there 
afford  food  for  endless  repetition  in  the  years  to  come. 

"  You  see,  Mr.  Lucas,"  she  began  eagerly,  ."  I  told  Miss 
Ruby,  there,  that  I  would  stay  with  her  sister  while  she  took 
an  airing.  She  ain't  skursly  stirred  from  the  door  sence  she 
come  here,  and  I  thought  'twould  do  her  good.  She  hadn't 
been  gone  but  a  trifle,  when  Miss  Millicent  she  tripped  up,  and, 
says  she,  'Susan,  run  down  and  get  me  a  drink.  I'll  stay 
here  till  you  come  back,  if  you'll  light  me  a  candle,'  says 
she.  '  It  isn't  dark,'  I  says,  for  I  knowed  Miss  Ruby  allers 
set  without  a  light,  and  I  wanted  to  do  what  was  right,  if  I 
could.  '  Get  me  one,  girl,'  she  snapped  out." 

"  Snapped  out !  You'd  better  be  careful  how  you  put 
things,"  interposed  my  aunt.  "  It  may  be  better  for  you  in 
the  end." 

"  Well,  she  did  snap  out,  and  she  called  me  girl,  too," 
doggedly  asserted  Susan — covertly  smiling  at  the  cook,  who 
nodded  her  head  in  token  of  her  stanch  support. 


RUBINA.  447 

"You  talk  of  being  careful,"  again  diverged  the  narrator, 
turning  to  her  mistress.  "  You  are  the  ones  to  be  careful.  I 
hain't  lived  here  so  long  without  knowing  some  things  as 
Miss  Millicent  would  rather  not  have  come  out." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  you  low-lived  thing  ?"  demanded 
Millyr  angrily. 

"  I  mean  what  I  mean,"  responded  Susan,  stoically,  "  and 
if  put  to  it,  I'll  tell— let  what  will  come  of  it.  Well,  to  pro- 
ceed. I  went  for  the  water,  and  when  I  come  back,  she 
was  drawing  the  light — so — right  afore  the  bed.  It's  a 
mercy  it  didn't  scorch  'em.  She'll  be  blind  now,  if  she 
wasn't  before."  She  finished  with  a  pitiful  inspection  of 
the  sufferer. 

"  I  meant  she  should  be,"  spitefully  said  Milly.  "  She 
won't  get  any  more  praises.  She  can't  play  any  more,  either, 
and  I'm  glad,  and  I  just  as  soon  as  not  that  you  all  should 
know  it."  Nobody  replied.  The  servants  gave  one  last 
look  at  us,  and  filed  silently  down  stairs — Susan  at  their 
head.  Uncle  John  looked  horror-stricken. 

"  How  much  longer  do  you  intend  to  be  quartered  on 
us  ?"  My  aunt  turned  on  the  threshold  to  hurl  this  mali- 
cious query. 

"•  As  soon  as  my  sister  can  accompany  me,  I  shall  bid  you 
farewell  forever,"  I  responded. 

"  I  thought  she  would  live  with  us.  I  hoped  so.  We 
will  all  forgive  and  forget  this  dreadful  night,"  said  Uncle 
John,  timidly. 

"  T  thank  you,  Uncle.  You  will  always  have  my  warmest 
gratitude  ;  but  as  for  the  others — I  knew  they  disliked  me  ; 
but  I  never  dreamed  of  this." 

They  both  flounced  scornfully  down  the  stairway.  Uncle 
John  dropped  a  few  more  kind  words  .on  the  wound,  and 


448  RUBINA.. 

reiterated  his  former  request  for  their  forgiveness,  which  my 
tongue  granted,  but  my  heart  refused  to  sanction ;  and  then 
we  were  left  alone. 

"  Alone,"  I  said ;  and  yet  not  so,  if  hard,  bitter  thoughts 
are  to  be  considered  company.  I  felt  an  added  twinge  of 
defiance  in  my  nature  as  I  reviewed  the  scene,  and  looked 
out  from  this  new  stand-point  on  the  still  darker  future.  It 
was  indeed  a  bright  day  to  me,  when  we  finally  got  away. 
This  was  not  until  winter  snows  had  fallen,  melted,  and 
given  place  to  renewed  airs  of  spring.  My  sister  was  to  be 
blind  forever;  the  decree  had  formally  gone  forth.  The 
swelling  left  her  throat :  she  regained  her  voice  in  a 
measure,  but  she  could  never  again  sing.  She  bore  her 
afflictions  patiently  :  I  constantly  repined  and  wept  over 
them. 

I  had  written  frequently  to  the  Hoveys  through  the  year. 
They  knew  of  these  events  as  they  transpired,  and  answered 
with  the  balm  of  sympathy.  "  Come,  as  soon  as  thee  can," 
they  wrote  ;  "  both  thee  and  thy  sister.  Some  way  will  as- 
suredly open,  and  thee  can  be  sure  of  a  home  with  us." 
And  at  last  we  came.  Helen  Mar  was  delighted.  She 
skipped  like  a  kid  around  Annah,  kissing  her  rapturously. 
Her  father  smiled,  and  hoped  "  thee  has  found  an  object  on 
which  to  work  off  thy  superabundance  of  caresses." 

I  had  a  plan  in  my  head,  waiting  only  for  these  kind 
friends'  approval :  to  move  to  a  little  room,  wait  and  adver- 
tise for  scholars.  I  was  ready  to  meet  and  answer  their  ob- 
jections, and  Zaccheus  soon  procured  me  a  room  only  a  few 
blocks  removed  from  themselves.  I  worked  all  day  to  make 
it  cheerful ;  though  as  I  scrubbed  the  floor  to  a  snowy  white- 
ness, and  polished  our  little  stove,  I  reflected  sadly  that  I 
was  taking  all  this  pains  for  one  who  could  never  see  the 


RUBINA.  449 

result.  She  heard  the  pleasant  bustle,  however,  and  said 
"  she  could  imagine  how  things  were  looking." 

"  I  have  just  thought,"  said  Judith,  "  that  when  thee  was 
away  thee  had  a  call  from  a  young  man,  who  said  he  was 
Andrew  Jackson.  Helen  Mar  thought  him  a  queer  specimen," 
laughed  she  softly — then,  recollecting  herself,  she  stopped. 
"  He  seemed  by  his  attire  to  be  a  clerk." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  him,"  I  said  simply. 

"Annah,  child,  what  is  it?"  She  was  feeling  along  the 
wall — slowly  and  cautiously. 

"  Nothing  now,  Ruby,"  she  answered,  with  a  brighter  smile 
than  I  had  yet  seen  her  wear.  "  I  perceive  that  this  space 
will  hold  a  piano,  and  I  was  hoping  that  you  would  get  pupils 
enough  to  warrant  hiring  one,  and  then  I  can  give  lessons, 
you  know.  It's  all  that  I  can  do." 

"  My  darling,  can  you  read  the  notes  ?"  I  said,  in  a  low  tone. 

"Oh,  that  is  nothing.  I  know  the  instruction-book  by 
heart.  I  can  teach  beginners,  and  as  to  sheet  music — if  some 
one  will  read  it  to  me  once  correctly,  I  can  remember  and 
give  it  to  them,"  she  eagerly  said. 

"  But  I  cannot  do  that,  Annah." 

"  Never  mind,  we  will  wait  and  see  first  what  success  you 
have,"  and  she  smiled  hopefully. 

My  little  home  grew  very  dear  to  me.  Mr.  Hovey  supplied 
us  liberally  with  comforts,  and  as  for  luxuries,  those  we 
could  do  very  well  without.  I  kept  the  floor  spotless ;  the 
tiny  stove  shining.  On  the  high  mantel  I  piled  my  few  books. 
A  low  bench  ran  around  one  side ;  over  it  I  drove  pegs  for 
bonnets  and  shawls.  I  had  a  small  pine  table,  too — painted 
red  ;  this  served  us  in  a  double  sense — for  our  meals,  or  as  a 
desk  for  reading  and  writing.  I  got  an  easy-chair  for  Annah, 
and  alow  rocking-chair  for  my  own  use.  In  one  corner  stood 


450  RUBINA. 

our  little  bed — a  gift  from  Judith.  A  small  mirror  hung 
above  the  table,  which  Helen  Mar  adorned  with  wreaths  and 
festoons  of  colored  tissue-paper.  A  sad  litter  h'er  artistic 
freak  cost  me  :  for  days  she  haunted  the  room,  a  matronly 
pair  of  shears  depending  by  a  steel  chain  from  her  slender 
waist,  and  clipped  and  strung  to  her  heart's  content.  A 
balloon-like  article  of  the  same  gay  hues  hung  from  the 
ceiling. 

I  remember  well  the  delight  of  our  little  band,  when  a 
timid  knock  announced  my  first  pupil — save  Helen  ;  the 
next  day  I  gained  another,  and  at  the  end  of  the  month  I 
counted  twenty  bonnets  on  the  pegs ;  the  low  bench  was  full. 

Don't  think,  reader,  that  you  are  to  be  wearied  with  a 
prosaic  account  of  my  school ;  its  petty  area  of  irritations  ; 
its  simple  pleasures.  I  have  no  desire  myself  to  review  the 
experiences  lurking  there.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  in  a  moderate 
measure  I  prospered ;  slowly  but  surely  I  gained  the  love 
of  the  children  and  the  confidence  of  the  parents.  My 
numbers  increased.  I  added  another  bench  to  the  room ; 
rented  a  piano  for  Annah,  and — oh  joyful  day  for  her ! — she 
commenced  giving  lessons.  This  was  a  full  year  from  the 
day  we  took  possession,  but  not  once  had  she  repined  at  the 
delay. 

During  this  year  we  saw  Andrew  Jackson  frequently.  I 
looked  for  the  raw,  gaunt  youth  of  Northfield ;  in  that  stead 
came  a  tall,  finely  formed  young  man — almost  a  stranger. 
Like  scores  of  others,  he  had  come  to  the  city  to  seek  his 
fortune,  convinced — as  he  remarked,  with  a  clash  of  the  old 
egotism — "  that  in  the  country  a  man  of  talent  can  do  nothing 
worthy  of  himself."  At  every  visit  I  noticed  how  the  rustic 
armor  was  fast  dropping  from  his  speech  and  manner.  lie  told 
me  sad  news  of  the  old  farm-house.  Uncle  Joel  had  left  the 


KUBINA.  451 

church,  and  been  "  labored  with"  by  the  deacons  and  elders 
for  this  unchristian  conduct,  but  vainly.  "  He  never. goes  to 
church  now,"  quoth  Andrew.  "Where  he  keeps  himself  is 
a  mystery.  The  farm  was  sold  at  sheriff's  sale  ;  there's  talk 
of  redeeming  it,  I  believe ;  but  people  generally  think  it's  a 
pretty  doubtful  case.  I  tell  you,  Miss  Brooks,  that  sermon 
did  the  business  for  Squire  Martin.  He  lost  all  of  his 
ambition,  and  it  broke  up  the  revival  completely." 

Andrew's  leave-takings  were  but  signals  for  a  longer  tarry  ; 
for  protracted  questions  abont  Annah's  music,  and  petitions 
so  confidentially  made,  that  it  seems  a  sin  to  tell  them  here. 
He  caught  my  smile  one  day ;  perhaps  it  enlightened  his  own 
perceptions,  for  he  colored,  stammered  some  excuse  for 
leaving,  and,  snatching  up  his  hat,  vanished  hastily.  .  Poor 
lad  !  I  had  no  thought  of  being  so  ironical.  He  saw  that 
I  divined  his  secret,  and  it  galled  him  sorely.  Oh  !  why  can 
we  not  hide  our  sweetest  secrets  from  other  prying  eyes  ? 
Though  of  the  fairest  texture,  they  become  gross,  common- 
place, when  the  world  sifts  its  hot,  curious  breath  over  them. 
I  was  sorry  for  him.  As  for  Annah,  she  innocently  wondered 
what  made  our  friend  start  off  in  such  a  hurry  ;  and  unwilling 
to  implant  a  conscious  expression  on  her  sweet  face,  I  framed 
some  evasive  answer. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

"  IT  is  nine  years  since  we  lefk  Northfield,  Ruby,"  ob- 
served Annah,  one  day,  thoughtfully  counting  them  over  on 
her  thin  white  fingers. 

"  Yes,  darling,"  I  assented,  lifting  my  eyes  to  note  her 


452  RUBINA. 

meaning.  She  seemed  lost  in  thought,  so  T  resumed  my 
sewing.  Silence  lasted  an  hour  by  the  clock ;  broken  only 
by  the  ring  of  my  scissors  as  they  slipped  from  mv  lap  to 
the  smooth,  bare  floor — during  which  I,  too,  went  wandering 
in  that  distant  Northfield  life,  so  far  behind  my  present  that 
it  seemed  a  weary  travel.  "  Nine  years,  indeed  !"  I  echoed, 
and  a  sigh  followed. 

"  And  all  this  time,  Ruby,  you've  been  teaching,  without 
bringing  your  fortune  any  nearer.  How  you  used  to  talk  of  it ! 
Where  are  all  our  grand  dreams,  our  wonderfully  fine  visions, 
Ruby  ?  We  get  no  glimpses  of  them  now." 

"  They  are  merged  in  reality  ;  we  have  no  time  for  dream- 
ing," I  answered. 

She  smiled.  "  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  our  dream  ever 
became  real,  do  you?  Why,  we  dreamed  of  fame,  and 
wealth,  and  power,  besides  scores  of  minor  things !" 

"  I'm  afraid  they  are  indeed  gone,  Annah ;  lost  on  the  re- 
ceding shores  of  youth,  where  they  first  took  life  and  shape. 
I  have  got  past  that  now.  We  are  in  a  sense  independent : 
we  earn  our  support.  %  I  trust  you  are  content  with  that,  my 
darling,"  I  said,  a  little  anxiously. 

"  Oh  yes,"  she  hastened  to  say,  laying  down  her  knitting 
— she  could  knit  beautifully — then,  a  little  earnestly,  "  Shall 
you  ever  return  there,  do  you  think,  Ruby  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  Should  you  like  it  ?  we  can  go  at  any 
time,"  I  replied.  "  It  is  not  so  long  a  journey.  We  can 
spend  the  coming  vacation  there,  if  you  choose — that  is,  if 
you  feel  strong  enough  for  it." 

"  Is  it  a  long  vacation?"  she  asked,  vacantly. 

"  Surely  you  know,  love,"  I  said,  astonished  at  the  ques- 
tion. "  It  begins  in  August,  and  lasts  until  Novem- 
ber." 

61 


EUBINA.  453 

"  How  lonely  you  will  be,  sister !  I  forgot — "  was  all  she 
said  in  reply. 

I.put  down  my  work  and  looked  at  her.  Where  had  my 
eyes  been  the  past  year,  that  I  had  not  discovered  how  much 
thinner  and  paler  she  was  getting;  how  hollow  her  cheeks 
were,  under  the  poor,  sightless  eyes?  It  was  no  unfamiliar 
vision,  yet  it  smote  me  like  a  new  revelation  :  the  precursor, 
of  dreads  unexpressed,  yet  keener  than  a  two-edged  blade. 
I  rose  and  crossed  over  to  her.  "You  are  not  well  to-day, 
my  darling  ?"  I  questioned  anxiously. 

"  Oh  yes,  indeed."     She  never  complained. 

"  No,  you  are  not,"  I  persisted. 

"  I  feel  a  little  tired,  that  is  all.  I  think  it  is  this  June 
sun ;  it  is  so  oppressive."  I  scanned  her  in  silence  :  she 
felt  it :  "  You  are  looking  at  me  earnestly,  Ruby.  What  do 
you  see  in  my  face  that  is  unusual  ?"  She  reached  for  my 
hand,  and  softly  stroked  it  with  her  own  pale  fingers. 
•  "  God  only  knows,  my  child,"  I  quivered  out,  taking  her 
up  in  my  arms,  and  putting  her  slight  form  on  the  bed. 
"  Lie  there  and  rest ;  for  you  shall  knit  no  more  this  sum- 
mer, nor  give  another  lesson." 

"  Oh  yes — "  she  began  ;  but  I  cut  her  short.  "  Oh  no  ; 
you  are  just  to  mind  me,  you  know.  You  have  worked  too 
much  already.  I  am  a  brute  not  to  have  perceived  it." 

"  You  are  wrong.  It  is  not  that.  I  should  like  to  work 
— it  is  but  little  at  best — as  long  as  I  can ;  for  soon  the 
night  cometh  in  which  no  one  can  work,"  she  murmured, 
dreamily.  "  II ow  shall  I  feel  hereafter,  if  I  let  you  toil  for 
me,  while  I  lie  idle  here  able  to  help  you !" 

"Oh!  Annah " 

"  Sister  Ruby !  my  sister,"   she  began,   and  paused 

"  Should  you  feel  it  to  be  wrong  if  the  good  Father  should 


454  RUBLS'A. 

call  me  away  from  you  for  a  season — not  to  stay  from  you 
forever,  you  know — only  to  go  before  you  and  find  the  way  ? 
You  have  had  such  a  hard  life — it's  all  been  hard  from,  the 
beginning,  hasn't  it,  dear  ?"  And  I  have  -done  nothing  to 
lighten  it".  He  knows  it  as  well  as  I,  sister,  and  Pie  is  going 
to  let  me  do  something  for  you  at  last — you  who  have  done 
every  thing  for  me,  my  mother,  sister,  and  friend.  He  wants 
me  to  go  and  find  a  home  for  you  :  then  when  you  come,  all 
you  will  have  to  do.  is  to  enjoy  it.  I  can  feel  how  pitiful 
He  is,  dear ;  how  sorry  for  our  troubles.  And  it  is  joy  for 
me  to  go.  I  shall  love  my  task,  and  Demis  will  help  me. 
Dear  Demis !  I  think  of  her  more  and  more :  I  can  almost 
see  her  sometimes ;  I  know  she  is  with  us.  I  should  like  to 
be  buried  beside  her ;  but  not  in  Northfield." 

"  Annah,"  I  sobbed,  "  you  must  not  talk  so.  I  cannot 
bear  it." 

"  I  won't,  then,"  she  answered,  sweetly.  "  Forgive  me ;  I 
supposed  you  knew." 

An  intense  hush  followed,  during-which  twilight  silvered 
every  object  in  the  room,  then  slowly  shifted  to  vague  shim- 
mering rays  of  moonlight.  It  was  a  young  moon,  and  van- 
ished almost  ere  the  tardy  sunset  cradled  it.  The  glimpse  I 
got  ere  it  set  looked  ghostly.  But  so  did  every  thing. 
What  was  there  that  did  not  appear  for  a  little  time  and  then 
vanish  ?  Yea ;  the  very  table  on  which  I  rested  my  head, 
the  very  chair  on  which  I  sat,  the  clothes  I  wore,  were 
stamped  with  the  destiny  of  decay.  I  was  enjoying,  behold- 
ing their  prime  :  the  meridian  must  soon  be  passed.  And  so 
of  human  lives.  Our  straining  eyes  discern  no  footprints  on 
the  other  side,  but  not  the  less  are  they  moving  there  ;  not 
the  less  are  we  too  changing. 

Oh,   bitter,   bitter  thought !     It  is   no   comfort  to   the 


RUBINA.  455 

mourner  to  be  told  consolingly  that  we  shall  some  time  follow 
our  departed.  They  are  rent  from  our  warm,  sympathetic 
present.  The  past  may  afford  us  sweet  food  for  gleaning 
memory  after  the  years  have  been  long  garnered ;  but  in  the 
first  anguish  of  bereavement,  the  future's  promise  seems  only 
empty,  tasteless  husks  of  mockery. 

"  Bereavement,"  I  say  ?  Yes!  For  the  real  parting  is  not 
when  death  sets  his  final  seal  on  matter,  and  the  enfranchised 
spirit  soars  free.  The  icy  deliverer  is  often  welcomed  as  a 
benefactor,  for  it  shortens  unavailing  pain.  The  parting 
pang  is  when  the  first  thought  that  your  loss  is  swift  and 
certain  crowds  clearly  into  view ;  that  the  battle  has  been 
fought  'twixt  life  and  death,  between  health  and  disease, 
and  the  latter  have  prevailed.  No  two  words  in  our  language 
strike  the  senses  with  such  ajar  as  these,  "  No  hope."  Then 
the  dreary  looking  forward,  with  the  keen  present  grief,  and 
the  sacred  hush  which  fills  the  rooms,  and  awes  our  very 
breath  into  silence,  and  envelops  our  stiffening  faculties  in 
mute  affright  and  sobbing. 

The  door  opened.  I  half  looked  to  see  a  spirit ;  but  it 
•was  a  man's  form  groping  through  the  darkness,  a  man's 
voice,  cheerful  -and  loud,  which  spoke.  "  Oh,  it's  Andrew," 
said  Annah,  rising,  while  I  struck  a  light.  "  And  we  haven't 
been  to  tea,"  she  added,  with  a  smile. 

Andrew  looked  astonished.  "  I  think  I  will  take  it  with 
you,  then,"  he  laughed,  "  if  your  sister  will  permit." 

I  tried  to  answer  cheerfully,  while  preparing  it,  but  it  was 
a  poor  attempt.  When  I  had  seen  them  seated  at  table,  I 
put  on  my  bonnet  and  shawl.  "  I  must  go  out  into  the 
street  a  few  moments,"  I  said  to  Annah's  inquiry,  "it  is  such 
a  good  time  now,  dear ;  I  never  like  to  leave  you  alone."  I 
almost  ran  to  the  Hoveys.  As  I  burst  open  the  door  where 


456  HUBIJSTA. 

they  sat,  they  rose  startled.  My  wild,  frightened  manner 
must  have  brought  the  conclusion  of  some  dreadful  catas- 
trophe. "  Is  Annah  dying  ?"  was  all  I  could  bring  my  lips 
to  utter. 

"  Good  heavens !  Thee  don't  mean  it."  And  Judith 
hurriedly  patted  away  for  her  bonnet. 

"  I  mean  is  she  ill  enough  for  that  ?"  I  explained.  "  I 
never  thought  so  before  to-night,  but  she  has  been  talking 
strangely — something  very  unusual  with  her."  I  saw  Judith 
glance  at  her  husband.  Helen  Mar — now  a  tall,  stately 
young  lady — rose  and  left  us. 

"  Thee  had  better  be  told  now,  friend  Rubina.  that  thy 
sister  will  never  be  any  better.  But  don't  thee  be  troubled, 
she  may  live  with  thee  years  yet ;  only  think  how  long  thou 
hast  had  her,  and  she  is  not  much  worse." 

"  Much  worse,"  I  echoed  bitterly.  "  I  hoped  she  might 
be  getting  better  all  this  time ;  and  to  think  that  I  have 
done  nothing  for  her." 

"  Thee  can  do  nothing,  Rubina.  I  consulted  our  physician 
long  ago  about  the  case.  He  saw  her  here  one  day,  and 
frankly  told  me  that  he  could  do  her  no  good.  If  she  should 
recover  her  sight  by  an  operation,  she  would  go  the  sooner. 
And  he -is  a  man  well  skilled  in  medicine,  as  thee  well  knows, 
Rubina.  Thee  must  not  rebel ;  God  will  temper  the  wind 
to  the  shorn  lamb,"  said  Zaccheus,  in  his  deep  melodious 
voice — the  tones  quivering  with  pity. 

"  We  must  all  give  up  our  friends  when  the  summons 
comes,"  added  Judith,  placidly  tying  her  drab  bonnet.  "  I 
will  walk  back  with  thee,  my  friend." 

I  closed  my  school  the  next  day.  Andrew  was  invaluable 
to  me  now.  He  came  daily ;  he  brought  all  sorts  of 
delicacies,  and  spent  hours  in  efforts  to  amuse  her.  She 


RUBINA.  457 

could  not  see  the  sadness  which  overspread  his  face,  when 
she  lay  back  on  the  pillow  quite  spent  with  her  brief 
exertion  of  talking ;  nor  the  deep  wistful  gaze  in  which  his 
soul  called  unto  hers.  If  she  guessed  the  truth  from  the  tones 
of  his  voice,  and  his  constant,  tender  care,  she  never  spoke 
of  it,  or  seemed  conscious.  And  how  changed  indeed  were 
their  relations  !  Her  merry  girlhood  had  cheered  him,  and 
encouraged  ambition  towards  a  higher  life.  "It  was  for  her 
sake  I  came  to  New  York,"  said  he  sorrowfully.  "  I  wanted 
to  make  myself  worthy  before  I  dared  ask  for  her,  and  now 
it  has  all  come  to  this.  Of  what  use  has  it  been  ?"  he  finished, 
despondiugly. 

"  Don't  ask  that,  Andrew.  You  little  know  how  your 
mere  presence  comforts.  Of  use  it  has  been,  though,  as  yet, 
hidden  from  you." 

I  could  have  wept  daily  at  the  sight  of  this  affectionate 
devotion  of  the  tall,  strong  man  to  the  weals,  blind  girl,  during 
those  sultry  summer  days,  had  I  not  felt  the  need  of  husband- 
ing sorrow  for  him  for  a  far  darker  day  of  grief. 

And  at  last  it  came.  I  pass  over  the  first  shock  of  sorrow. 
I  cannot  speak  of  the  full  cup  of  torture  pressed  close  to  the 
shrinking  lips  ;  for  its  poignancy  will  never  lessen  in  memory. 
Here  was  a  transition,  silent  and  peaceful.  Some  flowers 
wither  prematurely  from  their  stems ;  pinched  by  sharp 
winds,  nipped  by  unkindly  frosts,  they  shrivel  in  a  reluctant 
heap  and  leave  a  black,  barren  stalk  behind.  But  the  most 
fragrant  of  roses  fall  noiselessly  earthward,  and  then — their 
full,  perfect  life  accomplished — their  departing  odors  leave 
on  our  stricken  hearts  a  faint  shadow  of  what  in  due  time 
•will  strengthen  to  a  healing  balm.  Let  us  patiently  await  the 
sovereign  cure. 

A  broken  shaft  rises  to  mark  the  spot  where  Annah  sleeps, 
20 


458  RUBINA. 

far  from  the  city's  noise  ;  and  only  one  line  roughens  the  pure 
marble :  "  I  am  going  to  find  you  a  home."  They  were  her 
dying  whispers,  as  I  bent,  in  an  agony  too  deep  for  tears, 
over  her  departing  spirit. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

HERE,  something  whispers  me  to  pause.  It  says,  "  Suppress 
the  further  record  of  a  longing,  disappointed  life."  The 
succeeding  years,  which  are  only  repetitions  of  the  previous 
ones  of  baffled  effort.  The  weary  struggles  for  subsistence, 
as  my  pupils  gradually  dropped  away  into  men  and  matrons' 
places  in  the  world,  and  none  came  to  take  their  places. 
And  the  reluctant  disbanding  of  the  vast  army  of  hopes  and 
fears,  which  people  annually  with  dismal  graves  every  earnest 
heart.  Perhaps  I  might  discover  the  hidden  blessing  lurking 
amid  the  thorns  piercing  me,  did  I  seek  for  it  dispassionately. 
I  confess  I  cannot  do  this.  Age  and  toil  have  furrowed  my 
frame,  have  taken  ample  toll  for  each  passing  year ;  but  my 
heart— poor  foolish  member! — keeps  its  fair  round  lines 
untarnished ;  its  legacy  of  immortal  youth.  It  glows  with 
as  eager  hopes  as  ever.  I  still  detect  it  looking  forward 
with  a  trusting  confidence,  never  destined  to  be  levelled  by  any 
barbed  arrow  of  disappointment.  How  can  I  check  it  ?  Is 
the  tide-wind  that  sucks  the  marrow  from  our  bones,  the 
strength  from  our  erect  stature,  the  roundness  from  our 
muscles,  also  to  sap  the  foundations  of  our  mental  nature — 
the  greenness  and  vigor  of  our  souls  ?  I  trust  and  believe 
not.  That  which  we  lose  shall  we  not  some  time  find  again  ? 
That  which  is  taken,  shall  it  not  be  restored  1  Time  is  but 
an  unfinished  volume ;  or,  rather,  a  scrap-book  of  disconnected 


KUBINA.  459 

fragments  of  one  great  story.  Death  steps  in  ere  the  interest 
in  it  ceases,  and  says  sternly,  "  To  be  continued ;"  and  where 
our  volume  abruptly  closes,  there  our  next  opens.  Eternity 
takes  up  the  unfinished  threads  of  our  dusty  hopes,  fears, 
loves,  and  griefs,  and  weaves  them  firmly  into  one  massive 
woof;  it  brightens,  it  refines,  it  polishes.  And  the  conclusion  ' 
of  the  theme  waxes  and  wanes  far  onward  in  the  infinite  years. 
Or,  shall  it  ever  end?  In  the  atmosphere  of  immortality 
shall  aught  of  decay  exist  ?  Shall  not  the  dews  of  divinity 
baptize  it  with  never-fading  splendor  ? 

What  finite  mind  can  grasp  these  mysteries  ?  dare  criticise 
an  Infinite  Author  ?  dare  pronounce  with  heedless  confidence 
upon  the  proper  point  for  the  interesting  tale  to  culminate  ; 
when  God  shall  write  "  Finis"  below  the  close  of  the  last 
tragic  chapter  ? 

What  the  grave  shall  shut  upon  here  and  open  to  me  beyond, 
I  know  not.  I  have  signs :  I  see  visions.  But  I  place  no 
faith  in  things  so  terrestrial  assuming  a  celestial  garb  :  never- 
theless, they  serve  to  comfort  me  a  little,  and  to  keep  Hope 
bright  and  active.  Then,  when  the  rosary  of  Time  is  number- 
ed, on  the  last  receding  pearl  I  trust  to  slip  quietly  and  with 
perfect  faith  to  the  Great  Father's  bosom. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIH. 

ERE  I  close  I  must  speak  a  word  for  a  few  characters  in 
these  pages.  Andrew  Jackson  lives — an  honored,  useful, 
happy  man.  Yes,  "happy."  Time,  the  great  consoler, 
brought  healing  on  its  wings  for  him.  His  sorrow  deepened, 
expanded  his  whole  nature,  and  in  the  genial  warmth  of 


460  RUBINA. 

what  thus  became  a  blessing  his  spirit  grew  afresh ;  grew 
kindly  sympathetic  with  all  mankind,  and  thus  took  on  added 
lustre — for,  every  doubt  removed  from  a  poor  pilgrim's  heart, 
every  sorrow  lightened,  blesses  abundantly  the  doer,  and  gives 
him  added  strength.  Goodness  multiplies  ere  it  returns  to 
the  heart  that  gave  it  birth  :  if  no  trumpet  sound  of  Fame 
greets- his  life  here,  a  higher,  holier  applause  lives  in  hundreds 
of  human  hearts — made  bold  and  strong  through  him. 

And  why  should  I  not  be  thankful  that  happiness  tinges 
his  remaining  years ;  even  though  I  still  linger  amid  the 
shadows  ?  For  her — out  of  the  darkness  into  the  light ;  yea, 
eternity's  light.  For  him — out  of  the  gloom  of  earthly  hope- 
less mourning  for  her  sweet  human  presence,  into  the  open 
sunlight  of  peace.  And  in  due  time  another  love  crowns  his 
life;  if  less  fervent  than  his  first  sad  dream,  not  less  tenderly 
constant.  A  few  years  after  Annah's  death,  there  was  a  sober 
wedding  at  the  Hoveys' :  two  lives  married  in  the  presence 
of  three  witnesses,  after  the  beautiful  Quaker  ritual — silent 
and  impressive.  Their  home  is  but  a  stone's  throw  from  my 
lodgings,  and  it  is  my  favorite  resort.  Helen  Mar  still  dubs 
him  playfully  "  a  queer  specimen,"  as  occasion  brings  to  light 
some  long-hidden  noble  deed  ;  but  it  is  to  be  observed  that 
each  revelation  of  this  nature  increases  the  admiring  love  in 
which  she  holds  her  "  bonnie  husband." 

Zaccheus  and  Judith  quoted  their  son-in-law,  his  sayings 
and  doings,  on  all  occasions  of  mild  disputations  between 
them  and  their  Quaker  brethren.  "  Thee  must  be  aware,  friends, 
that  Andrew  knows,"  was  considered — by  themselves — 
equal  to  a  judge's  verdict. 

Andrew  was  indeed  to  these  good  souls  an  honored  son. 
Tenderly  and  with  filial  reverence  he  smoothed  their  pathway 
to  the  tomb ;  and  now  his  every  act  blesses  their  holy  mem- 


RUBINA.  461 

ory.  His  is  a  stately  home;  for  wealth  has  crowned  his 
efforts.  He  hoards  it  in  no  miserly  coffers,  but  literally  ful- 
fils the  most  impressive  of  all  the  Divine  commands — Char- 
ity ;  confident  that  in  sowing  the  good  seed  broadcast,  as 
but  an  humble  almoner  of  the  Lord,  he  will  finally  gather  to 
himself  a  whole  harvest  of  abundant  sheaves. 

I  never  hear  now  from  Aunt  Hannah.  I  have  never  look- 
ed upon  her  face  since  our  separation ;  her  cold  farewell  was 
the  last  word  I  ever  heard  her  utter.  Uncle  John  came  to  see 
me  soon  after  Annah's  death. 

Poor  man  !  He  was  much  changed ;  he  wept  as  he  went 
away.  He  long  ago  descended  to  the  dark  vale ;  his  life,  I 
firmly  believe,  shortened  by  family  bickerings  and  disgrace, 
for  a  sad  story  reached  me  soon  after.  Milly's  conduct, 
her  sad  career,  her  shameful  flight,  is  too  shocking  a  history 
to  be  written  here.  Where  she  is  now,  I  know  not.  And 
the  companion  of  her  crime — her  minister,  my  schoolmaster 
— of  him  I  cannot  speak.  I  loathe  his  vices ;  I  abhor  his 

crimes.  And  his  sojourn  in brought  not  a  few  to  light. 

He  shamefully  degraded  his  holy  office :  his  name,  plucked 
from  the  church  records,  hurled  from  the  shining  heights  of 
favor,  lies  forever  buried  in  ignominy,  enwreathed  with  con- 
tempt when — as  it  seldom  is  now — spoken. 

I  hang  a  veil  before  this  picture  when  I  wish  to  lose  my- 
self in  memory.  Then  I  cherish  tender  reflections  of  the 
days  that  are  gone  :  they  hang  like  a  purple  mist  over  distant 
mountains.  Again  the  awakening  aspiration,  the  eager  hopes 
of  ignorant  fancies,  burn  within  me.  I  live  over  again  the 
petty  jealousy  ;- the  fierce  hate  ;  the  sense  of  vacant  depths 
answering  to  my  yearning ;  the  chill  of  feeling  it  all  in  the 
power,  to  be  summoned  at  the  will  of  an  indifferent  experi- 
menter ;  of  feeling  the  warmth  of  his  professions,  but  simu- 


462  RUBINA. 

lated  to  hide  ignoble  purposes — Oh,  Derm's !  surely  yours  was 
a  preferable  fate,  for  you  lived  not  to  let  it  torture  you. 

And  Northfield.  Can  the  years  touch  thee  with  change- 
ful fingers  and  not  leave  the  impress  ?  Dear  secluded  ham- 
let among  imprisoning  hills  !  My  thoughts  haunt  thee  steadi- 
ly ;  I  can  settle  to  nothing  for  the  winter  until  I  go  and  see 
thee.  This  I  said  to  myself,  reader,  one  night  after  pondering 
the  matter  well. 

No  lumbering  "  stage"  awaited  me  at  Chispa.  This  was  the 
first  wheel  of  the  chariot,  change.  I  looked  eagerly  from  the 
car  window  as  we  drew  near  Northfield.  The  mountains  still 
towered  their  wooded  slopes  heavenward.  The  meadows 
and  hill-sides  were  as  fresh  and  greeii  as  ever.  But  a  serpent- 
like  trail  of  iron  wound  around  the  hills,  plunged  down  the 
shallow  gorges,  and  stretched  away,  away  over  the  broad 
commons.  Our  locomotive  wheezed  "  down  the  grade,"  and 
brought  up  most  respectably  at  the  side  of  a  low-roofed, 
brown-painted  station. 

"  Here's  the  dep-o !"  sang  out  a  strong  nasal  voice  behind 
me,  with  unmistakable  satisfaction.  A  feminine  voice  re- 
sponded. It  was  a  conjugal  duet.  "  Yes,  and  for  my  part 
I'm  glad  on't.  Here.,  you  take  Natty  and  I'll  see  after  the 
duds.  There's  them  crackers  ;  if  you've  a  mind  to  tuck  'em 
int'  your  overcut  pocket,  you  may  :  bub's  whet  his  bill  on  'em 
all  the  way,  nearabout.  Young'uns  at  his  age  are  so  craving." 

"Well,  that's  the  talk,"  chuckled  the  nasal  tones,  as  he 
picked  up  the  '  craving'  youngster,  and  was  marching  off  to 
the  tune  of  "  Wall,  woman,  you  gather  up  the  fragments,  that 
nothing  be  lost :"  she  recalled  him. 

"  Hold  on  a  second.  Here's  them  handbills  that  the  little 
boy  was  so  perlite  as  to  give  us :  them's  the  names  of 
taverns  down  to  the  city.  You  may  as  well  put  'em  in  your 


RUBINA.  463 

pocket  too,  for  may  be  we'll  take  a  notion  to  go  there,  some 
clay,  and  then  they'll  come  handy ;  and  here's  one  I  want  to 
look  over  at  my  leisure,  and  if  it's  what  it  professes  to  be,  I 
shall  give  it  a  trial :  my  hair's  gittin'  desp'rate  streaked 
latterly."  The  matron  sighed  audibly. 

I  smiled,  as  I  left  them  still  huddling  various  articles  into 
a  small  faded  satchel ;  but  it  set  me  thinking  how  inexorably 
age  treats  our  poor  smouldering  vanity,  and  strips  us  of  our 
bonny  graces.  I  almost  echoed  the  matron's  sigh  ;  then  I 
smiled  disdainfully  at  my  weakness,  as  I  plodded  up  the  street 
past  Lawyer  Prince's  cottage,  now  grown  into  a  stately 
dwelling. 

I  did  not  know  the  streets.  By  some  unaccountable 
perversity  they  had  widened  and  taken  unto  themselves 
sidewalks.  Rows  of  maples  bordered  them  ;  not  yet  attained 
to  any  remarkable  altitude.  White  trellised  boxes  surround- 
ed and  protected  their  shaky  trunks. 

But  the  old  houses  themselves  had  taken  on  airs,  too, 
and  patched  themselves  up  with  bay  windows,  and  verandas ; 
and  the  great  chimneys  had  toppled  down  to  make  room 
for  their  slender  successors ;  and  the  old  brass  knockers  had 
given  place  to  bells.  The  grounds  enveloping  them  looked 
pleasant.  Gravelled  walks  swept  downsvard  to  the  street. 
Shrubs  dotted  the  turf;  and  flowers  bloomed  in  gay  profu- 
sion. Painted  shingles  at  the  corners  told  me  the  names  of 
the  streets — formerly  known  by  universal  consent  as  "  Pork 
Lane,"  "  Piping  Alley,"  and  "  Thunder  ;"  very  unaccount- 
ably they  had  flowered  into  "  Myrtle,"  "  Summer,"  and 
"Elm  Streets."  The  stores  had  trebled  in  number,  and 
risen  to  three-storied  importance.  Over  their  front  stood 
forth  the  symbolical  letters  for  secret  gatherings.  But  the 
farmhouse  was  unchanged.  The  same  old  stone  kept  its 


464  RUBINA. 

office  at  the  gate.  The  same  shrubs  bloomed  in  the  same 
spots  in  the  yard.  The  same — or  others  exactly  like — green 
paper  curtains  were  unrolled  before  the  tiny  paned  windows. 
No  door-plate,  no  ivory  bell-knob  here :  the  same  brass 
knocker — as  bright  as  gold — on  the  green,  double-leaved 
door.  I  lifted  ;  let  it  fall  three  times,  with  a  sonorous  clang, 
starting  an  echo  from  the  neighboring  hills.  Footsteps  hasti- 
ly scudded  along  the  entry :  the  door  opened  one  of  its 
leaves,  and  revealed  the  face  of  my  neighbor  in  the  cars. 
With  one  hand  on  the  door-latch,  the  other  vigorously  re-' 
strained  the  frantic  plunges  of  a  two-years-old  boy,  to  rush 
from  the  maternal  restraint. 

"  Aint  you  'shamed  now,  sonny  ?"  she  said  reprovingly. 
"  Natty  dont  see  the  lady,  does  he  ?  He  mustn't  act  naugh- 
ty, but  be  mother's  little  man."  The  little  man  might  be 
Natty,  but  he  was  not  my  Natty  of  long  ago.  I  had  some 
difficulty  in  making  the  good  woman  understand  my  errand. 
Then  I  found  that  she  was  Darwin's  wife — "  Martha  Butter- 
field  that  was,"  she  said  with  a  laugh ;  and  finally  she  re- 
moved my  things,  and  to  my  eager  inquiries  for  Debby  and 
my  aunt,  said,  "  Yes,  I  guess  we'll  make  a  raise  on  'em,"  and 
opened  the  door  to  the  kitchen.  It  looked  much  as  of  old, 
save  that  the  listing-seated  chairs  had  vanished — replaced 
by  more  modern  ones  of  cane.  An  old  woman  drooped  by 
the  open  door  over  a  pan  of  dried  apples,  which  she  was  in- 
dustriously coring.  She  did  not  hear  my  entrance.  "  They 
aint  wormy  none,  as  I  can  see,"  she  muttered  to  herself; 
'mazin  likely  apples  for  this  time  o'year,  I  think.  I  was  a 
tellin'  Miss  Martin  this  very  day  that — " 

"  Debby,  how  do  you  do  ?" 

She  lifted  her  eyes.  So  wrinkled  a  face  I  never  before 
beheld ;  red  eyelided,  toothless  ;  the  form  thinner  far  than 


RUBINA.  465 

of  yore,  and  bent  nearly  double.  I  never  should  have 
known  her  if  we  had  met  elsewhere.  She  tried  to  raise  her 
old  shoulders,  but  the  weight  of  nearly  a  hundred  years 
would  not  give  way.  She  sank  back  again,  peering  up  at 
me  through  her  glasses  with  evident  curiosity. 

"  Whose  that,  for  massy's  sake  ?"  she  managed  to  cackle, 
after  a  moment's  silent  survey.  • 

"  Don't  you  know  me,  Deborah  ?  dear  Deborah."  I 
took  and  pressed  her  dry,  withered  hand.  "  Think  back  a 
good  many  years.  It's  an  old  friend." 

"  Why  it's — no,  it  can't  be  nuther.  Wall,  massy  to  us  ;  do 
tell  me  now  if  ''tis  ra'ly  Ruby  Brooks,  or  her  shadder.  Your 
voice  sounds  like  her'n ;  but  you  don't  look  like  her,  else 
I've  forgot.  I  spect  she's  dead  long  'fore  this.  We  ain't 
hurd  from  her,  none  on  us." 

Still  I  kept  her  hand.  With  the  other  she  removed  her 
glasses,  rubbed  her  eyes,  and  resumed  gazing  at  my  face. 
"  Nary  a  look  o'  her"  she  muttered.  T'other  one  wan't  never 
han'some,  as  you  may  say ;  but  she  looked  kinder  cum'ly, 
too,  after  all ;  and  I  allers  told  her  that  han'some  is  as 
han'som  does ;  but  this  one  aint  one  nor  t'other.  Who  be 
you  ?" 

"  You  must  remember  that  Ruby  is  older,"  I  said  simply. 
"  Are  you  glad  to  see  her  2" 

A  gleam  of  recognition  smote  her  withered  face.  "  The 
Lord's  sake  alive  !"  she  gasped,  letting  fall  her  pan  of  apples, 
as  she  started  up  and  seized  me  by  both  hands.  "  I  guess 
I  am.  I'd  gin  up  ever  'spectin'  to  see  ye  ag'in.  Wall, 
wall,  and  here  ye  be  !"  '  she  crooned  delightedly.  "  But 
ye're  longer  favored  than  ye  used  to  be,  Ruby.'' 

"  Have  you  got  a  kiss  for  me,  Debby  ?"  I  stooped  for- 
word. 

20* 


466  RUBINA. 

"  Bless  her.  She  wants  to  kiss  the  old  woman,  does  she  ? 
Yes,  I  guess  I  have.  Got  f9rty,  got  a  hundred,  got  a  mil- 
lion ;"  and  the  poor  old  soul  fairly  broke  down.  I  had 
hard  work  to  soothe  her.  She  declared  that  she  was  not 
crying ;  all  the  while  her  sobs  and  gasps  were  painful  to 
hear.  Then  she  seized  me  by  the  neck,  and — vigorously 
for  her — implanted  kisses  on  my  cheek,  until  I  managed  to 
extricate  myself.  Mrs.  Martha  looked  on  and  laughed, 
while  drawing  out  the  table  ;  but  said  not  a  word  until  Aunt 
Rhoda  entered.  She  looked  almost  as  old  as  Debby,  and 
for  thinner.  As  Mrs.  Martha  introduced  me,  she  shaded 
her  eyes  with  her  hand,  scanned  me  narrowly,  and  replied 
in  a  querulous  tone  to  my  greeting.  Then  she  declared 
her  disbelief  in  my  identity.  I  attempted  to  convince  her, 
but  she  interrupted  me  with,  "  I  dont  want  to  hear  no  sech 
gammon."  I  may  as  well  add  here,  that  during  my  whole 
stay  she  would  not  be  brought  to  recognize  me ;  but  treated 
me  exactly  like  a  stranger.  She  alluded — in  my  hearing — 
to  "  Martha's  company."  After  a  day  she  ceased  to  notice 
me.  It  was  clear  that  she  still  hated  me  cordially. 

From  Dwight,  in  the  days  wliich  followed,  I  gained  a 
history  of  all  the  changes  in  Northfield.  Of  his  father's 
being  "  cut  off  from  the  church  on  earth,  and  the  congregation 
of  the  saints,  root  and  branch,"  by  Elder  Fuller ;  of  the  farm 
being  sold  for  debt,  and  his  own  efforts  to  redeem  it.  How 
Ira  had  never  "  lifted  a  finger  to  help  them  ;"  and  how  proud 
Amanda  had  grown,  "  as  homely  as  sin,  and  as  selfish  as  the 
devil,  if  she  is  my  sister,"  he  indignantly  ejaculated  :  "she's 
got  seven  young  ones  just  like  her,  only  twice  as  hateful,  and 
she  don't  step  foot  in  here  only  at  Thanksgiving  and  Christ- 
mas, and  so  on.  Mother  went  to  live  with  her  after  we  broke 
up,  but  she  didn't  stay  long ;  they're  too  near  alike  about 


BUBIXA.  467 

some  things.  Amanda  as  good  as  turned  her  out.  I  told 
the  old  woman  I  could  keep  her  if  no  one  else  could." 

Then  he  spoke  of  the  Pierces;  of  Olive's  devotion  to 
her  sister,  who  would  never  in  this  life  be  any  better.  "  You 
can't  shet  her  up  so  close  but  what  she'll  git  loose,"  said  he. 
"  She'll  smash  winders,  and  bark  like  a  dog,  and  mew  like  a 
cat,  and  she  hates  children  like  pison.  She's  been  com- 
plained of  time  and  time  agin,  and  once  she  was  sent  to  an 
asylum  ;  but  didn't  do  her  no  good.  She  wore  Mrs.  Pierce 
out :  she  died  three  years  ago,  and  Eleil,  he  got  married, 
and  went  off  to  Californy.  Olive  and  her  father  stays  there  : 
nobody  goes  nigh  'em  once  in  a  dog's  age..  I  don't  know 
what'll  become  of  'em.  The  farm's  goin'  to  rack  an'  ruin  as 
fast  as  it  can  ;  it  wants  a  manager.  Ira  ought  to  work  it, 
but  he  won't.  Amanda  might  help  Olive  too  ;  great  strap- 
pin'  crittur — weighs  a  hundred  and  eighty  clean ;  but  catch 
her  a  doin'  it !  No,  indeed."  It  was  a  short,  sad  biogra- 
phy. I  wept  bitter  tears  at  its  recital.  f 

My  stay  lengthened  to  a  week.  I  made  Olive  a  brief 
visit.  It  was  sad  to  see  the  wreck  of  her  former  buoyant 
self,  moving  so  drearily  around  the  deserted  rooms  ;  yet  it 
was  noble — this  faithful,  serene  fulfilment  of  a  life-long 
duty.  She  wore  her  old  cheerful  smile,  however.  Soli- 
tude, neglect,  and  trial,  had  not  chilled  or  embittered  her 
feelings,  or  clouded  her  joyous  faith  in  the  Future's  reserve 
for  her. 

"  I  know  he  will  come  back  sometime  Ruby,"  she  said,  as 
I  spoke  of  Mark  and  his  long  absence.  "  I  can  wait :  what 
are  a  few  years  ?" 

Alas !  that  this  single  hope  should  be  reft  from  her.  Not 
then  did  we  know  that  the  clarion  tones  of  war  had  pierced 
his  ear  afar  off;  that  his  soul  leaped  responsive  ;  and  that  his 


468  RUBINA. 

wandering  feet  returned  to  join  in  the  impending  con- 
flict. 

Oh  !  eager  hearts,  which  swelled  on  that  fearful  day  with 
hopeful  pride,  and  thirst  for  the  laurels  of  victory.  Alas  ! 
that  your  confident  dreams  should  so  soon  crumble  to  dust. 
Some  forms  must  fall,  we  know.  The  pant  of  the  rising 
lion  must  be  appeased.  Our  country's  soil  is  stained  with 
sacrificial  offerings  of  her  bravest  and  best.  The  life-blood 
of  Freedom  flows  over  the  fiendish  heart  of  Treason  ;  a  sure, 
though  costly  regenerator.  Brave  souls :  silent,  yet  speak- 
ing. For  thee  rests  in  the  future  years,  on  thy  country's 
bosom,  immortal  gratitude  and  praise.  No  brave  young  life 
has  gone  out  obscurely  in  her  defence ;  it  shall  be  relit  at 
the  splendid  torch  of  history. 

I  did  not  go  up  to  Uncle  Jesse's.  All  things  there  were 
changed,  and  become  new.  The  dear  old  faces  had  vanish- 
ed. One  by  one,  as  their  life's  work  waned  toward  comple- 
tion, they  dropped  placidly  off  into  their  long,  dreamless 
rest.  Strangers  kindle  home  fires  there,  on  the  old  familiar 
hearthstones.  Unknown  faces  flit  to  and  fro  in  the  great 
rooms — haunted,  to  me,  by  the  forms  of  the  dear  departed. 
"  The  places  that  knew  them  shall  know  them  no  more"  on 
earth  ;  but  let  us  hope  and  believe  that  they  are  not  there- 
fore homeless.  Earth  for  heaven  is  no  paltry  exchange  of 
tenement.  Crumbling  imperfection  for  fadeless  immortality. 
The  willow  for  the  golden  crown.  Sackcloth  and  ashes,  for 
the  sinless  robes  of  "  Life  Everlasting." 


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